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Chapter Text

“Oh it beats you black and blue before you see it coming.”
Bastille, “Bad News”

-

All eyes were on the father and son, seated before the well-adorned casket. Hastily made tributes, though nonetheless filled with respect, draped and piled around the altar, leaving little space. In the heart of it, under the flowers, locked away in peace… sunset-coloured hair, golden skin: Petra Ral Ackerman.

Mikasa bowed her head, swallowing dryly. The whole church was in attendance, dressed in black and puffy-eyed. One by one, the prearranged speakers took to the podium to reminisce of the deceased. The words were solemn, and the humour-- if any-- was overshadowed and somber. Every so often, someone coughed. But for the most part, the sanctuary held a silent crowd. A sea of black, with children in navy or heather grey. Except for Petra’s son.

Sitting in a chair in the main aisle before the casket, the little boy was the only child dressed in the traditional mourner’s colours. It was remarkable, to Mikasa, how he managed to sit still. He was only four. Occasionally, he looked around, or tugged on his father’s sleeve and the man leaned down to let Eren whisper in his ear. Mikasa couldn’t remember if he was usually so well behaved, or if it were induced by the stress of the last few days. He’d just lost his mother.

Her widower, however, was stoic as ever.

Mikasa thought the perhaps Levi Ackerman was fearlessly trusting in God. After all, he would be reunited with his beloved in the kingdom of heaven. Maybe Petra had come to him in a dream and comforted him…. He had the only dry eyes here.

Throughout the funeral, Mikasa’s gaze remained on Eren, thinking of an earlier exchange.

“Eren will need a caretaker.”

Mikasa rose from the table to put her plate in the sink, already sick of her mother’s press. “I like working at the shop with Dad.”

“It was something fun when you were a child. You’re a young lady now, Mikasa, and you need to do something appropriate.” The older woman joined her daughter. “No one wants a wife stronger than him.”

“Sensou, give her a break.” Mikasa’s father, Krieg, stepped between the two. “I’m sure she will consider your idea in earnest once you give her time to think on it.”

“Taking care of a child is not going to suddenly make me want to get married.” Mikasa spun on her heel.

Sensou Ackerman had been afraid that Mikasa would never find a husband since the girl was fifteen. She was too hard, too strong, too unappealingly masculine. If not for the long, charcoal braid and the skirts, she could be mistaken for a boy. Hauling the deer and game carcusses around her father’s shop, that often happened. Usually the mistake was followed by shaming apologies: “Well, if you hadn’t been carrying that doe on your shoulders like a proper young lady….”

Mikasa’s marriage prospects had dried up entirely when she broke a man’s nose for daring to show interest, and honestly, she preferred it that way.

“Mikasa, you’re being childish!” Sensou scolded sharply. “You think you can work for your father forever and die in this house a spinster?”

Her mother loved her dearly, really. She dealt so harshly for the fear that Mikasa would not be welcomed into heaven for failing to serve her God-given purpose. After all, a woman was only righteous if she submitted to her husband faithfully. While she would never admit it aloud, she had the sliver of fear. Would God find her worthy with no husband?

But by no means did she desire to be thrown into a semblance of motherhood to awake the softer side of herself. Surely there would be a good man who would treat her as an equal and not as an inferior servant. She’d gladly take his name. There was no interest for men that felt she was a mere woman, and not someone worth respecting. She wanted someone who treated her the way her father was with her mother. Krieg did not undermine or micromanage Sensou. He allowed her to make decisions without him-- much too unpopular an opinion. He did not wield the reins of the house alone; he shared them with Sensou. He didn’t patronise her, he did not deal harshly with her, and he absolutely never raised a hand onto her in discipline.

Too bad decent men like her father were in short supply.

There was a shifting before the casket. Levi stood and made the slow stroll up to speak. All the while, Mikasa watched his son, waiting for the little boy to jump up and run to his father. It never happened.

“I’d like to thank everyone for coming,” Levi began, then cleared his throat. Bruises had taken residence under his eyes, making him appear as a sailor abandoned at sea. Apart from that, he was of his usual appearance: well put together and calm. “I know Petra is looking down on us and smiling. She’d thank you all for remembering that peonies are her favourite flower and giving her so many. Thank you for your generosity in sending her body back so beautifully.”

He paused long, as if wanting to add more. Levi scanned the crowd, face shrouded in uncertainty, lips parted, until his eyes settled on his son. “Eren and I are truly grateful.”

With that, he stepped down suddenly. Mikasa furrowed her brow. Was that all he was going to say?

Apparently so, because their pastor replaced him and brought the instructions for a hymn. The congregation stood, hymnbooks laid open on palms, and raised a pitiful song for goodbye. Levi and Eren stood, and the father moved both chairs out of the way. The pallbearers filed around Petra’s casket and lifted her, following Pastor’s lead down the aisle. Eren trailed his mother’s body with his father’s hands on his shoulders. From her pew, Mikasa could see that the preschooler had salty rivers down his cheeks. Sniffling, he pulled the sleeve of his suit jacket over his nose and left a snot bridge to his ear.

Slowly, the mourners began to follow the object of their grief out of the sanctuary. The casket was loaded into the hearse, the surviving Ackermans and Rals into a limousine, and off the small party headed to a private burial.

Out in the lobby, Mikasa caught sight of her best friend and excused herself from her parents and headed straight over. The russet brunette’s eyes tell-told the amount of crying she’d been doing.

“Sasha.” Mikasa wrapped her arms tight, and whispered lowly, “How are you feeling?”

“Not so bad, I’ve been drinking ginger beer.” Sasha clasped her cold hands together on the small of the other girl’s back.

“Have you contacted the midwife?”

Her shook her head, her nose brushing Mikasa’s.

“After all this is passed, then.” Mikasa gave her a squeeze and stepped back.

“How are you, Mikasa?” Jean Kirschtein moved forward.

“I’m well, thank you.” She gave a nod. “Can I ride with you to the potluck?”

“We have to stop by home to collect the breads and frozen meals for Levi,” Sasha warned, but not out of discouragement. “Will your parents mind?”

“I need to escape my mother. All she’s done lately is go on and on about what a good nanny I’d be.”

“Then by all means, Jean, go ask Mr. Ackerman if it’s okay!” Sasha ran her fingers down his arm, and he went to do as bid. Luckily, Krieg was lax with his only child, and soon Mikasa found herself wedged against her friend in the backseat of the Kirschtein’s SUV.

Chapter Text

“I’m surprised they let you come all the way out here with us.” Sasha had her arm over Mikasa’s shoulders, securely tucking the girl into her side. Mikasa didn’t protest, revelling in the common embrace; since their childhood, they were often wrapped around one another like so. There was an indescribable bond, akin to a strong pull, between them that neither questioned, only accepted. It had seen them through uncertain times, for which both were thankful. Life was too difficult to travel alone.

“I really wish Mother would stop this.” She closed her eyes and wiggled her head over to listen to her friend’s comforting heartbeat.  

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes! She thinks this would make me suddenly want to get married and have babies.”

Sasha brushed her fingers along Mikasa’s shoulder. “Do you think you’re ready?”

Mikasa pondered that while the hum of whizzing over pavement turned to the rough crunch of gravel beneath the tires. They were officially out of city limits now, though she didn’t need to open her eyes to know the buildings had stopped much further back down the road. Was she ready? When faced with the inevitability of her own household, the workload did not so much bother her. She could do dishes, laundry, and mundane chores endlessly with little repulse. Treacherously, she surmised that if it were her house and she lived there alone , there would be no complaints whatsoever. Something about being under a man-- living in his house, expected to obey his commands, while being fully dependent on him-- left a foul taste in her mouth.

“I don’t know,” Mikasa answered truthfully.

“What don’t you know?”

“I’m afraid of God giving me a mean husband, I guess.” Among other things .

Sasha smoothed a hand over Mikasa’s hair and kissed her forehead. “He’ll give you what you need.”

“Do you think I need a mean husband?” Mikasa opened her eyes to look up at Sasha. Her friend had not denied the possibility of God willing her with something she didn’t want. Over the years, they had shared so many concerns, each dealing out blunt opinions, that the honesty didn’t surprise her.

“You need someone you’ll submit to. I don’t think you’ll be a good wife to someone who lets you run wild.”

Mikasa closed her eyes again and repositioned her head in Sasha’s bosom. It stung, hearing that. She knew it had been said with care, but she was now afraid Sasha was not the only one with that viewpoint. How many times had Mother scolded her about being so headstrong? How many times had she been warned that men did not long for autonomy in a wife? All those speeches flooded her mind. Her mother’s words rang mercilessly.

“Men want a woman with her head bowed and her hands obedient!” “No one will want you, acting boyish like that.” “Come now, and behave like a proper woman-- the boys are watching!”

“Sasha…”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m ready?”

The other girl took equally long to think over the question. She continued stroking Mikasa’s shoulder until she very quietly answered, “No.”

“Jean,” Mikasa raised her voice, “What do the other boys think of me?”

“You’ve never cared,” he answered, trying to sound as if he had not been eavesdropping.

“Jean,” Sasha pled.

The man sighed and looked out the window to his left. He drummed the digits of one hand on the steering wheel; his other hand scratched the back of his head. “It’s not very nice.”

“Just tell her, or I will.”

At his wife’s words, he sighed again. “They say… say you’re in need of a good beating.”

Mikasa shot upright, seeking Jean’s gaze in the rearview mirror. His eyes skittered to the road again as soon as they met hers.

“They say that you’re a wild one who will let the Devil into your house.” Jean tentatively looked at her. “Mikasa… I don’t think that.”

She shook her head, falling back into Sasha’s embrace. “You did break Jean’s nose,” she whispered into Mikasa’s ear. “He’s forgiven you, but I think it still scares everyone else.”

“I’m not ready,” Mikasa supplicated. She’d rather be old when she married, time naturally calming her spirit, than be beaten into submission. She’d seen the women who were tamed by their new husbands, and she did not want the same. All this time and no one had warned her. Did they think she was beyond metanoia? Did people think poorly of her parents for her behaviour? Oh, she’d been too selfish for too long. Their inability to produce more children had left them to rumors once already.

Mikasa could almost hear it now: “ I bet God is punishing Sensou since she’s not even doing a proper job with the one child she has now.” Had she been shaming her mother all this time? Her actions these last several years the reason her father had yet to be approached by a potential suitor. Was she unwanted completely and totally now? Or worse, was someone looking forward, waiting, to taking her and abusing her?

All at once, the air caught in her chest, painfully tight, and her heart thumped through her ribcage.

God! She lamented silently. Prayer always eased her discomfort and worry quickly, after all, and this was a time to pray if she ever truly needed one. God, please… forgive me for betraying and dishonouring my mother. Please show me how to be the woman I should be… God… I’m so sorry… that I let the Devil blind me…

She thought about a man beating her and paused. Perhaps that would have to be her atonement. Even when God forgave, He sometimes still needed a sacrifice. She swallowed fear; she needed to have faith. Lord God, if I need to be disciplined, bring about the right man to carry out Your will.

The thudding in her chest impossibly increased by her prayer addendum. It was not appealing-- being fully and unquestioningly docile was not something she wanted. But she wanted that more than she wanted to perish in hell fire for being a wicked woman. Being born female, her singular God-given duty on Earth was to acquiesce in the demands of the husband she would be given. Failing to do so meant she risked eternity writhing in the agony of Hell. Thoughts of that lake of fire flashed before her eyes and she shivered.

“I’m afraid, Sasha.” Unbidden teardrops fell into her lap. Her breath caught in her throat. “I’m afraid.”

“Shh…,” the other girl soothed and pulled her in closer.

“I’ve been sinful with my foolish notions. I’ll never make this right.” The drops became a stream.

“Yes, you can.” Sasha reached into the pocket in the back of Jean’s seat and dug out a package of tissues. “Maybe this is why your mother is practically shoving you into this job.”

Mikasa accepted the Kleenex and blew her nose. “Why?”

“Maybe she’s hoping that you’ll prove yourself to be capable of being a good wife? That Levi would have enough praise to outweigh the bad?”

Mikasa grabbed Sasha’s hand and laced their fingers together. Would that be true? Could she correct her reputation so easily? It would be simple to submit to Levi without hesitation. He would not have the same power over her as a husband. He would be dominant in his household and her responsibilities therein, but he would lack that true dominion over her. He could not discipline me! She might just get through all this after all. Was it really possible? Thinking it through thoroughly helped to calm her, almost cheered her up.

“I should use this opportunity,” she finally agreed, balling the tissue in a fist. It pained her to think about her bleak situation as a whole, so instead she swept up her turmoil into that closet in the back of her mind and closed the door. When she was sealed into a fate, she would unlatch that compartment and sort it all out then. Slowly, she composed herself, and when she felt complete, sat up independently.

“Have you looked up your due date?” Mikasa asked, changing the subject and the mood.

“No… but I think this baby was conceived on our wedding night.” There was a glimmer of something in her friend’s voice that Mikasa could only describe as maternal. It was admittedly weird, thinking of her best friend become a parent. There was a little person growing inside of her.

“That would make you….”

“Three months, heading into four.” Sasha shrugged and rubbed her free palm over her unchanged abdomen. “I just thought my period was being funny.”

“Why’d you wait so long?”

“I didn’t know I was pregnant,” she shrugged and looked at Mikasa.

“So you…” Mikasa felt her cheeks heating at the thought of sex . “You didn’t realize…?”

“My mother never explained how to make babies!”

“Mine either, but there’s books about it.” Not that she was supposed to have read them. It was technically her future spouse’s job to educate her on reproduction. “Have you read any of those guides to pregnancy?”

Sasha shook her head, then grinned. “I know God will make everything okay. I don’t need a book.”

“Have you been eating enough? Eating the right things?”

“It’s hard,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t matter what I do. God’s watching over us.”

“Sasha, have you ever wondered…,” she almost brushed it off. She remembered skimming through a book about pregnancy from a medical perspective, one that had scared her. It’d had information on disorders and defects, many of which were dependent on the mother.  Mikasa thought to drop it, but finished anyway, “that maybe God lets us make some choices and face the consequences?”

“Like, that I'm in control of what happens?” The brunette looked skeptical. “Everything that happens in the world is exactly what He wants to happen.”

“What about ‘bad things happen to good people’?”

“There is always something God can punish you for, no matter how good you think you are.”

;;;;;

At Levi Ackerman’s home, Jean loaded foil tray after foil tray into her waiting arms. The silence between them felt like a loaded hunting rifle, so Mikasa distracted herself with the labels on the meals Sasha had prepared for the widower. It looked to be a well balanced menu from the labels she was able to read. Lucky boys, no one can cook like Sasha , she thought ruefully.  

Jean finally worked up the bravery to discharge that hunting rifle as Mikasa eyed the instructions for heating ratatouille. “You know, Mikasa, I admire you even if you’re foolish.”

She grit her teeth, broken from a daydream of vegetables. “Being my own person is foolish?”

“Wanting to be in control-- that’s foolish. Leave it to us men. We’re the ones God works through.” He stacked another tray and Mikasa held it with her chin. “But your attitude is a nice break from the usual.”

She couldn’t reply to something like that respectfully, so she spun and made her way up the driveway past the other vehicles.

;;;;;

The two Mr. Ackermans eventually cornered Mikasa out on the back porch where she’d been hiding out away from the stuffy, smothering grief that permeated the home. Five minutes into the potluck and she had disappeared to find solitude, needing that space to help fortify her in her new drive at life. The glances of the fellow church members felt too heavy, too judgemental now that she knew more of their outlook concerning her.

“Levi came to me to address this idea of you nannying,” her father started, “and I told him you could settle business on your own.”

“Of course,” Levi chimed in, “I asked him why you still live in his house if that’s the case.”

Mikasa bit the inside of her cheek at his acknowledgment of her undesired status. Levi held his hand out and she reached to shake it. With an internal smirk, she squeezed much harder than customary. As if to reprimand her pride, he snapped, “I had to tell Krieg to muzzle that wife of his if I had to hear your name one more time.”

She snatched her hand back from the flame and felt a sharp retort on her tongue. Going as far to open her mouth, she quickly snapped it shut. Just an hour prior, she’d resolved to become more of a socially acceptable woman, and here she was aiming to attack a man whose wife had died four days ago. Her insult stung her tongue, simultaneously needing to be spat or swallowed, but she committed to the latter. Casting her eyes to the ground, she bowed her head in submission.

“I think this is a decision for you, Father.”

“Don’t be shy!” Krieg turned and left them alone, closing both the screen and back doors behind his retreat. Mikasa wasn’t so naive as to assume privacy; she knew there were eyes on them.

Levi seemed to be sizing her up. Still postured in obedience, she endured his soundless scrutiny.

“Social standards dictate that I thank you for coming today.”

After he broke the ice, did she open her mouth. “I'm sorry--”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted sternly. “‘It was her time’, or perhaps, ‘It was God’s will’? You think saying those things are of comfort but really all you're doing is nurturing resentment.”

Mikasa slammed her jaw back together, her body tense.

“If I have to hear another generic reason as to why God decided my son did not need a mother, I will--.... Doesn't matter….” He deflated quickly, crossing his arms over his chest and consciously taking deep breaths. She watched him breathing, too stunned by his blasphemy. He was doubting God’s bigger plan and it made her uncomfortable. The rigid air between them crackled, until finally he spoke again. “I know what a headstrong brat you are. Is this job something you really want?”

Mikasa couldn't answer because she hadn't had enough time to discover that for herself. She'd come to the revelation of her impending obedience almost out of desperation, needing to find a way to make herself seem less wayward. To be honest, her only experience with small kids was the church nursery every other Sunday, and she simply tolerated that. They were too stubborn, too reckless, too testing-- much like myself.

Without a response, Levi looked at her, leveling his steady eyes into her unsure ones. “Tell me, do you need to convince everyone that you're worth marrying? Do you need this because you're twenty and no one is interesting in the task of taming you?”

Mikasa felt heat in her chest rushing up to her face: both anger and embarrassment. Wanting to avoid an action she would regret, she let the anger manifest as tears on her eyelashes. But she's done far too much crying today, so she did her damnedest to blink them away. Steeling her emotions, she met Levi head on.

“Or is this what your mother wants? She wants you to prove you're not the wicked girl everyone thinks you are?” He looked her up and down, making it obvious that he did not need a response from her. “Sensou so badly wants you to snare a husband, but who is she hoping to saddle with you?”

Mikasa let him approach without backing away. Their exact height difference became apparent then. She could find him less intimidating now that she realized he was a few inches shorter than her.

“Or is she wanting you to become so indispensable to me that I have no choice--”

“I'm doing this for Eren!” she retorted, her pride scraped by his guessing game. Yes, some of that was true. Maybe even the last statement had some merit, but she was not going to roll over to him just yet. And it wasn't really a blatant lie, just a distortment of the truth. Ultimately, it was altruistic; Eren would have a caretaker, and she would redeem herself in the eyes of their church. In time, he would outgrow his need for her, and she'd be free to pursue a family. Both benefited.

Levi watched her, bored, until he seemed unjustifiably pleased and nodded his approval. “Let me show you the property.”

Chapter Text

It’d been a long week avoiding Sensou, but here under the open skies of early May, Mikasa found a decent amount of peace. The zephyrous breeze moved through her clothing, licking her gooseflesh through the fabric. She longed to let the wind seize her tresses, but there were men present. Unfortunately, it would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

Around her, the remaining unsheared herd of suffolk sheep grazed, many with rounded bellies. Lambing would be upon them soon-- well, not Mikasa, as she would be in Levi Ackerman’s house by then. Birthing was her favourite of the ranch duties. There was something in that moment of birth, something that made the veil thin, something that made her feel closer to heaven than any amount of prayer could. In the prospect of missing it this year, her heart sunk some. Father had promised that she could attend any births on her days off but it was too unpredictable. One of the perks of shepherding was the ease in which ewes brought life; very rarely did they need intervention.

Around her, the hired ranch hands buzzed with their duties and no one spoke to Mikasa. Maybe her sullen attitude had driven them off, or maybe a fortnight full of Sensou hounding her had plastered a grumpy expression on her face. Dealing with her mother had brittled her already thin resolve. She’d given Sensou the bare minimum of information, mostly because she herself didn’t understand what Levi Ackerman had said to her when they were last face to face.

“Let me show you the property.”

From the porch, he led her straight North, out to what she guessed to be their-- his personal garden. It was a fenced plot, a quarter of an acre in area, with a small glass greenhouse in the East corner. The wooden raised beds and terra cotta pots were empty of last year's withered vines, holding nothing but dirt. It looked like it had been up kept even through winter.

(Another three hundred yards North of the greenhouse stood a modest brick structure, home to fellow church members Grisha and Carla Jaeger. Mikasa adored the doctor and his wife. It wasn't until recently that she discovered the house she'd always admired in the distance was Petra’s.)

“We’ll be prepping this sometime soon.” Levi stopped suddenly and planted fists in the pockets of his slacks. He stared out at the area, but did not approach it fully. Mikasa drew up beside him so that they stood side by side. She didn’t say anything. It didn’t feel like he wanted her to.

The unusually chilly April afternoon was piercing her thoroughly. It had been warmer back on the porch, protected from the wind and nearer to a heat source. She wished she had brought her wool cardigan.

Finally, Levi spoke again. “Do you think God plans everything, or do our choices matter?”

The sentiment felt too familiar, having pitched it to Sasha in the last couple hours. She liked to think she had some amount of free will. In the story of Moses freeing His people, she’d been taught that God hardened Pharaoh’s heart so that the Egyptians would suffer plagues. It hadn’t ever quite sat well with her that God would intentionally plan for someone to react in a way that warranted punishment. Saying that God planned every action of every person brought her to crises over the crimes committed. Did God plan for genocide? For slaughter? For children to hurt and die? It made her wonder, did God ever punish for the sake of it, without reason?

As a child, Mikasa had aired that concern to the pastor’s wife. Marie Smith had sat her down and explained that God did not want to hurt anyone. That He protected all his creations, until they misbehaved, and then He simply withdrew his protect. That’s why bad things happened.

“But then didn’t God plan for you to misbehave? And then doesn’t that mean that he planned for someone else to do bad things to hurt you?” She had asked. Even so young, she had spotted the flaw that led to a dog-chasing-tail argument. After Marie had spoken with her parents, and Mikasa had a firm talking-to, she concealed her true thoughts. Now, whenever questioned, she nodded along with the majority. It was easier.

But there was a twinge in Levi’s tone now that appealed to her. It was as if he wanted to know what she really believed. Did she go along with the happy crowd, or was this a lonely island while the crowd parted and passed on either side?

“I believe in free will,” she finally answered, nervous. She snuck a peak at Levi.

“I do, too.” He turned his head and met her eyes. She didn’t flinch from what she saw there: immeasurable longing, a warped sorrow that had wrung itself out to dry on the severed strings of a bond. The intimacy in that was frightening. He looked beaten and utterly defeated. Was dealing with her having that effect on him, or was it the rest of the congregation with all the resentment-growing well wishes?

“Mikasa, let me tell you the truth.” He began to approach the garden again, so she followed. He led her to the gate but did not open it, instead leaning on the bar of the elbow-height chain link fence. “Had Sensou not come to me, I would have asked for you.”

That stopped her short, and now she stood frozen behind him, close enough to still hear his words.

“Petra struggles-- struggled with depression from the constraints of the church. She didn’t want to leave, though. So when Eren was born, we decided against raising him on the bread and butter of the doctrine. She wanted our children to have a chance to grow up without a crippling fear of doing the wrong thing.”

Levi bowed his head and pulled his left hand from his pocket to run it along the top of the fence. He didn't have his ring. “So I would have asked you, Mikasa, because you are the wicked woman who will let ‘The Devil’ into her home.”

She bristled visibly at that, shoulders pushing up around her neck with tight fists at her sides. It was one thing to know boys said that about her, but hearing it from a man drove it home. “I believe in free will but that doesn’t mean I share all your blasphemy!”

“Doesn’t it?” Still, he did not turn to face her. “You’ve spent the last four years causing ruckus by shunning the destiny the church picked for you.”

“I’ve changed, sir.” She put space between them as she settled onto the fence.

“‘ Sir’ ? You don’t even call your own father ‘Sir’.” Amusement hinted his reprimand.

“I’m done with this. Petra is in heaven waiting for you, and you’re going to miss out on paradise with this nonsense.”

Inexplicably, everything of nature stilled as he whispered, “Heaven isn’t real. Dying is like falling into a dreamless, wakeless slumber: there's nothing after.”

Her hands flew to her mouth, and tightness took hostage her stomach. She tried to imagine the death he spoke of, but her head spun and she felt dizzy, her gut sick. The idea of sleeping forever, unknowing, scared her deep to her bones, but it fed the tug in her heart that doubted the soul was eternal. More for her own convincing than his, she muttered, “You’re lying.”

“If heaven were real, my wife would not be there. She’d be here . If god were real, she’d have never died.”

“Enough!” Mikasa threw her hands over her ears. She couldn’t stand to hear another lie come from his mouth. His deceptive words were burrowing into her brain, replacing the things she’d grown up knowing to be true. No heaven… wakeless slumber… On quick feet, she retreated toward the porch, and ultimately the house with its safety of other believers. She needed to be away from him and his ideas. If he was going to Hell, she wasn't going to let him drag her along.

Mikasa offered God a small prayer, a promise not to let Eren or Levi fall away and perish.

From a window, she watched him until he came back to his home. She avoided speaking directly to Levi for the rest of the potluck, even when Krieg approached him with her in tow.

Levi Ackerman had not asked her to be discreet about their conversation, but Mikasa felt uneasy with exposing something so personal. Those words had been too sincerely shared for her to betray his confidance. Her mother could nag and nag, but the only answered she would find was the same as anyone else gave.

“Levi agreed to hire Mikasa.”

She’d been so hopeful going into it, but after the short, painful exchange by the lifeless garden, Mikasa was again unsure. She looked over her shoulder at the men shearing the sheep and wordlessly excused herself from the activity. The hilly pasture hid her exit as she unbraided her hair.

Mikasa was going to see Levi again tomorrow to start integrating into Eren’s little world. The man hadn’t sounded at all upset on the phone this morning: either he’d never been mad at her, or he’d gotten over her reaction to his confession.

“Eren told me he likes when you teach Sunday school.”

Mikasa centered her thoughts on the little boy with the bushy brown hair and startlingly emerald eyes. Eren had been so quiet and composed as his mother was laid to rest, a large leap from the rambunctious preschooler she knew him to be. He was by no means a troublemaker, just exceptionally zealous.

“...we decided against raising him on the bread and butter of the doctrine…”

Eren had passionately proclaimed that he would become a missionary, that was no secret. He had fervor for the things of God, so much so that it had confused Mikasa as to what Levi meant. But looking back now, things she had brushed over clicked into place. Eren was being raised in the church, but not of the church wholeheartedly (The boy had not fear of spankings. He talked of television).

“He has a normal childhood, and I’m going to keep it that way,” was the warning over the phone.

So that was it. Normal , she scoffed. Secular. They were giving him a childhood normal according to the secular world. Though, no matter how she disagreed, something tugged her sleeve and held her back from exposing Levi.

Chapter Text

Without fail, there is a moment when he first wakes that the grogginess masks reality. He rolls to her side of the bed, seeking a warm body to wrap his own around. There's no one, and that's when his brain snaps awake with the dropping of his stomach.

--she laced her fingers through his and whispered, “Good morning.”

He nuzzled the space between her breasts before trailing his mouth to hers, where he breathed, “Very good morning--

Levi rubbed his palms into his eye sockets chasing away torturous memories. Oh, what he would do to hold her again-- to speak with her. Kiss her. Tell her how much he loved her.

He'd believed with all of his being that he would grow old with her. They would fill their home with children, raise them, retire, and enjoy the grandchildren to come. They'd die eventually, but together and old. They’d die, but one would not be left without the other.

////

Levi'd never paid much attention to Mikasa Ackerman, other than the fact that they were fifth cousins once removed, but even that didn't earn her any special considerations. Krieg’s branch of the family had broken away over four generations ago to marry outside of the close-knit gypsy clan. Levi wasn't one to harp on heritage-- he didn't consider himself gypsy anymore, and besides, he was a bastard child-- but breeding with the people who oppressed your clan was generally a no-no.

With an unguarded eye, he took his distant cousin in, searching for even the most minimal shared features. She reminded Levi of himself when he was a teenager; wiry with youth yet incredibly muscled, the kind of body belonging to a capable adolescent boy. There was no softness in her appearance, but there was in her voice. Mikasa squat beside Eren, at his eye level, taking in the options presented by the seed packets. Long, black hair was braided and wrapped around her crown, the excess of her skirt piled in her lap to safeguard from being stepped on. In one hand, she had the list Levi’d given her, and with the other she pointed.

“... determinate tomatoes, or bush tomatoes, to grow in pots. Which tomato seeds have a picture of a pot on them?”

For an only child, she seemed to be interacting remarkably well with the four-year-old. Granted, Eren was missing Petra just as much as he was, but Levi was witnessing his son peak out from his grieving shell. Mikasa was doing something Levi had failed to do to melt away his son’s reservation. He acknowledged his jealousy, but chose to focus on his gratitude instead.

Mikasa looked over her shoulder at him but did not let her gaze linger. Eren pointed at a variety of cherry tomato and she dutifully retrieved it, placing it in his waiting grasp with a dozen other packets.

Levi gave them space, choosing to wander the nursery aimlessly. His wife had always tended to their humble garden, making this the first year for him. As Erwin Smith had told him, this year would be nothing but firsts. It was life anew in a morbid sense; relearning to live without a soulmate, going from whole back to half a person after knowing life complete. With a small child, Levi could not revert back to the wretched man he had been before Petra entered his life. He had to continue looking forward, moving forward, because forward was the only route.

But damn Erwin for his manipulative lecture. Erwin knew Levi too well for too long. Having met in university, he had been the one to draw Levi away from sin and into a church. Sure, Levi had originally tagged along in the hopes to impress the blonde and get in his pants, but after a particularly powerful sermon, he'd felt that undeniable pull toward the altar to confess his wrong doing. He was baptized that night and never looked back. Then, just as now, forward was the only way to go; it was the only way to ever go.

“Mikasa doesn't have any marriage prospects, and Eren is going to need all the stability you can give him.” Erwin inclined his head, pushing his mug of coffee to the side to lean forward on his desk. In the lengthening silence, the sound of said child playing with the twins, Armin and Krista, travelled through the open window of the study. “There's a reason ‘women mourn and men replace’, and there's nothing wrong with that.”

Appalled, Levi spit back, “Christ, let my wife’s grave go cold first!”

“Look at yourself; you're unraveling. Even taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“That's what happens when the other half of you dies.”

It was a tense meeting. Erwin had Marie, he had his parents, he had six children-- all healthy, no one readily approaching death. He couldn't possibly understand how excruciating the experience was. But at least he had sparred Levi the nonsense about Petra dying being God’s will.

God had given him Petra and she'd been his balance, filling his cracks and smoothing him out. She had so mercifully overlooked and forgiven his past. She had never brought it up. She had never thrown his mistakes in his face. Petra was more than a good wife, and God may work in mysterious ways, but Levi knew her death was not so she could be replaced.

“You're seeing her tomorrow, aren't you?” Erwin didn't wait for a reply. “Just give it thought.”

“You're a fool, Erwin.”

He glanced over the rows of young plants to his son and nanny, still at the display of seeds. Eren’s mouth was moving and Mikasa nodded attentively before reaching up for another package of something Levi couldn't identify. She must be reading with her head down, because the boy leaned over curiously. When she looked up, Eren nodded and she handed the seeds over to him.

Levi resigned himself to waiting. They could bond over this and find him when they were done.

/////

“I can hoist a full grown ram into my shoulders and stand. A few bags of dirt won't hurt me.”

Levi raised a brow but conceded, placing a fourth bag of garden soil on the pile in Mikasa's arms. She stalked off, seemingly offended but also not struggling with the weight. Huh. He'd swear she were a boy if he didn't have the memory of Krieg sullenly mentioning how he desired a son to pass the torch to. It all sounded cliche, but was Mikasa trying to fill a gap? Was she pretending to encompass the baby boy born before her with a fatal abnormality?

It would justify her reluctance to submit to the traditional gender roles, but he figured he was overthinking it.

However, she was incredibly strong-- not just for a girl, but even for a man. He has seen the rams that Ackerman Ranch produces. That's got to be two or three hundred pounds, and if she could carry that with confidence on her shoulders…. He'd have whistled if she could surpass him in weighted squats and one of these days, maybe he'd challenge her.

Levi grabbed the cans of fertilizer and closed the tail of his truck. Eren had picked an impressive array for growing this year. On the way back, he'd gushed from his car seat on the back row about what different vegetable and fruit types meant (the same kind of explanations Levi’d overheard Mikasa issuing). Indeed, there was something in the young girl that coaxed Eren back to the child he was a month ago.

When he arrived at his garden, Mikasa sat on one pile of bagged soil, watching the preschooler attempt to hoe a long, narrow raised bed. His face was scrunched in effort, trying to control his motions with the tool. When he managed to get a good drag, upturning the dirt, he beamed at his nanny, “Like this, Mii-kaw-saw?”

“Yes, good job!”

From behind her, the single father heard words spoken through a smile. But when she turned at the sound of him opening the gate, her face had smoothed back into impassiveness. He sat beside her, putting them in close proximity so that a conversation would not be overheard by a certain someone.

“In a couple hours, you've opened him up better than I could try to in three weeks.”

“It's only because he's awakened something in me.” She shifted uncomfortably, but there was no room to wiggle over, and he watched her curl her body inward. “I feel this… unrestrained… I don't know-- dedication?-- to him. It's like….”

“Stories of those dogs who adopted orphan kittens?”

“No-- well, yes.” She turned her head toward him with downcast eyes. “He's your son. I don't want to disrespect your wishes for him, but I'd really like to become… someone special to him.”

“You've spent a morning with him.” Levi bumped his shoulder against hers like toasting champagne. “You move quic--”

“Mii-kaw-saw!” Eren ran over, hands cupped together before him. “Look-it!” He opened his little fingers to form a basket, showing off the wriggling worms. “There's a whole bunch!”

“What do you think of them?” There it was again; her voice was tender and kind. And this time, Levi could see her face. It was the same expression that he saw on any proud mother’s face, and goddammit, his heart squeezed. I miss you, Petra….

Eren focused on the worms, eyebrows pushed together in concentration. He shook his hands, bouncing the creatures, and looked up at Mikasa. “I think they're kinda gross!”

“They're also important.” The girl cupped her palms under his like a support. “Worms bring air to plants roots so they can breathe, the same way we breathe. That helps the plants grow big.”

“Should I eat them, Mii-kaw-saw?”

She shook her head and grinned. “No, but you can feed them to the dirt.”

“Okay!”

After Eren darted off, Levi leaned in close, this time resting an arm over her shoulders and drawing her in for an awkward, half hug. He hoped his action would speak his gratefulness toward her where his words would not be able to. Watching her with Eren, hearing her speak feebly of her motherly desires toward him-- he wanted her to know how much he appreciated it all.

“I think you're already special to him. Thank you.” And he meant that. Eren was so much more himself right now. His curiosity for life was relit. The boy was smiling. Talking. All the things that had disappeared were reemerging like perennials after winter thawed. Levi was clueless as to how Mikasa struck a chord in his son, but he was so thankful.

“Let's get to work.” The girl rose without reciprocating his embrace, but he didn't take offense.

Chapter Text

“Finish your glass of milk.”

At his father’s command, Eren ran back in, gulped the remaining milk in his cup, and sprinted back out of the dining room. How that boy was not exhausted after he garden work, Mikasa didn't know. Well, at least he would definitely sleep well that night.

“Let's get this done.” Levi opened the envelope that had sat between them at lunch, and unfolded several sheets of paper, narrating their uses. “This is what you'll need if you ever have to take Eren to the emergency room. It lists all his health information and insurance beneficiary number.”

He set it aside and she watched him pull out a debit card and slide it to her. “The PIN is zero-zero-zero-zero for now. You can change it to whatever you want. Use it for the shopping and to take your pay.”

Mikasa picked it up, marveling. She'd never had one of her own like this, complete with the embossed silver letters of her name. Working for her father was an now expectation, and one that did not earn the luxury of pay. She was still considered a child in his home and, even at twenty years old, was fully dependent on him. The thought of gaining some sense of adulthood filled her with wonder. In honesty, she wasn't even sure what she would do with money….

Levi continued. “This is a durable power of attorney. Krieg knows I had it drawn up.”

Mikasa put down the debit card to slide the long document closer. She’d heard about these kinds of things, but she had never seen one, let alone had one intended for her to use. It outlined the permissions Levi granted her, allowing her to speak for him in all aspects and manners. With this, she had the right to operate for Levi in any situation, though most of the ones she read, she assumed she would never be in. And should he follow Petra too soon, the document explained that Mikasa would retain that power.

She wanted to ask him about it, ask him why but he was already unfolding another paper.

“Banking information,” he supplied plainly, and she leaned in to read that one.

It was a catalog of accounts, their numbers beneath names. For most, he was the primary, either alone or with Eren as a joint. The last one listed, a checking account, was a joint between her and Levi.

“Does my dad know about this, too?”

“Yes. Krieg knows.” He sat back in his chair, letting her take it all in silence. She looked at him, wanting to know, wanting to ask, but didn't. Why was he trusting her to all this? Was she a much more permanent household member than she thought she would be? The responsibilities he'd handed to her made her feel almost too included in his affairs-- was this how every nanny was treated? Or was this a product of the grievous circumstance? She thought this job would be temporary; it would be a bridge between now and Eren starting school. But somehow, seeing her name there, under Levi’s, made it feel like an irrevocable position.

Folding the documents, she passed them back to him. He pushed it all back into the envelope, except the debit card, and stood. “Let me show you the safe.”

From the dining room, he led her down the hallway to the door at the end. He opened it and stepped inside, but she froze in the entry.

“What?”

“I don't think I should be in a married couple’s bedroom.” She felt like she was tainting the atmosphere just looking in, her eyes passing over the tidy space.

Levi turned his head away, toward his bed in the center of the room, his shoulders slumping the slightest bit. One side was obviously lived on, but the other seemed…. hollow. The quilt was without wrinkles there, but she swore the weight of a spirit was tied to it.

Mikasa was not a weak one to fill gaps nervously, but she found herself explaining, “I'm not even allowed in my parents’ room.”

“Well, I’m a widower now, so I think it'll be okay if you come in.”

“I don't feel comfortable.”

He momentarily turned back to her then, scowling but relenting. Without her, he opened a set of folding doors and disappeared inside. “The safe is in here, under the carpet; to find it, roll the carpet back from the north most corner.”

The sounds of a heavy metal door opening and closing rang sharply in through the room. “There's firearms for protection, and cash for an emergency.”

Levi reappeared, delicately shutting the closet behind him. “Roll the carpet back under the baseboard when you're done. The combination is on the bottom of the knife block in the kitchen.”

Mikasa nodded, feeling like she had stepped into an espionage novel of some kind. Her parents’ idea of a safe was a small fireproof lock-and-key case in the chest of blankets at the foot of their bed. Levi’s sounded much more complex, and she wondered what made him feel such measures were necessary.

Back down the hallway and through the kitchen to the other side, was the washroom. It was tight quarters, so he opened the door and let her in. On one side of the room were cabinets, and below them different manual cleaning tools on hooks. Two vacuums, an upright and a shop vac, sat neatly in the corner. The other side of the room held a matching washer and dryer set, deep red, and fancier than she had ever seen.

“Upkeep the cleanliness throughout the day if you want, but the majority of chores happen in the afternoon.” Levi leaned his head in. “More specifically, whatever you do all day, just let it be clean when I get home. I won't undermine you unless you fall below what's acceptable.”

Mikasa was not a homebody. Spending upwards of twelve hours a day either at the shop or on the ranch, there wasn't much for her to do at home except shower and go to sleep. She did family laundry on Saturdays, tidied the few misplaced objects in her room, and on occasion cleaned the common areas. She knew how to do all the chores Levi expected, but she was rusty, those skills seldom used since she was ten years old.

And she had rarely been left to attend to a child alone for an entire day. That brought its own challenges.

“You'll get used to it.” Levi took her further down and through a doorway, into what she guessed was previously a garage. It had been redone, insulated, walled, and decorated to look like a den. There was a sectional sofa crammed in tightly around a large television, Eren on the floor in a fort of pillows and throws, leaning his elbows on the coffee table, engrossed.

“Don't let his brain decompose, but he can come in here anytime after lunch.”

Levi looked at her, saw the poorly hidden confusion, and added, “Eren can show you how to turn it on. He knows.”

“Okay.”

Mikasa felt anxious now, feeling again like this was a mistake. Feeling again that she was unqualified to make the sudden jump into homemaker-hood. She rubbed her thumbs over the calluses of her hands, wondering if it were too late to back out. Not since she was a child had she spent so much time in a house doing mundane tasks. A sense of inexorable failure crept up onto her shoulders when she contemplated on Levi’s expectations.

For Eren, she encouraged herself. He needs you.

She relaxed her fists, relishing the sensation of tension leaving. Even though she still felt uncertain with this, the logical side of her knew that all changes took time to adjust to, and sooner or later they became the new normal. That's all this was: a change. Instead of physical labor throughout the day, her tasks would be much gentler.

Rubbing her calluses again, she hoped that the work was not too gentle. Despite their unfeminine quality, she liked the small pads of protective skin on her hands. She was especially proud of the one on her left thumb from the summer she was twelve, earned through weeks of wrangling steers and breaking mustangs. It also served as a reminder of the toe-to-toe fight with her mother that she’d won, affording her the right to wear a pair of jeans under her long denim skirts. There was no way to properly herd livestock riding side-saddle, after all.

Of course, if Mikasa’s calluses faded away, Sensou would be more than happy. The woman was always pointing them out, informing Mikasa of how rough they looked.

“What man is going to want to hold your hand if it is all scratchy? Women are supposed to be soft, delicate; they should be a vessel to bring their husbands pleasure.”

But to Mikasa, the pride she felt when her father praised her for being his strongest and hardest-working underling outweighed any concern she had for other men’s opinions.

Her parents were usually a united front, but somehow Mikasa felt that she caused a split. Sensou had harsh criticisms for the same attributes Krieg applauded. Her autonomy was an overly sore subject.

It often left Mikasa feeling caught. She wanted to soothe her father’s ideal of a strong, capable girl, but that left her mother’s desire for a meek daughter unfed. Until recently, it had not concerned her, as she had thought of herself as becoming poised to take the reigns at Ackerman Ranch. A Sunday brunch discussion led by her mother demolished that possibility, and it was made clear to her that her only goals in life were to get married, procreate, and serve.

Chapter Text

Ackerman Ranch was situated south of the city, along the Colorado state border, which meant a long drive early Saturday morning for Levi. The early hour didn’t bother him, but Eren was in the backseat whining. Mikasa said he had done that a lot this past week-- her first on the job-- but that if she sat with him and the photograph albums of his mother, Eren would usually quiet down and feel better.

“You’ll see Mikasa soon,” Levi offered, and the whines subsided for a moment. He carried on, since he’d rather fill the space with his voice than incessant cries of ‘ I’m tired .’ “Remember when Miss Sensou called last night and told you that you would ride horses with Mikasa? That’s what we’re going to do. We’re taking a drive down to Mikasa’s house, and then you’ll get to ride Blue Bell.”

“No, Dad, it’s Blue Boy .”

“I’m sorry-- Blue Boy. You’ll get to ride Blue Boy with Mikasa. Do you remember their dogs, when we were there at Christmas with Mama?” Eren had begged to take one of the puppies home, and he would have succeeded except that the entire litter already had prospective homes.

“Yeah. Can we have one? Mikasa has five so maybe we can take one home with us?” Eren had learned how to saw her name properly this week, and no longer drawled out Mii-kaw-saw.

“I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

Because Levi hated animals. They were needy and dependent, and Eren by himself was more than enough now that Levi had to juggle it all alone on the weekends. “Now isn’t a good time. Maybe when you’re older, so that you can help take care of it.”

Eren didn’t respond to that, and when Levi looked in the rearview mirror, his son was pouting. It wasn’t the typical pout of a child who was denied, though. He would see the way Eren had drawn into himself, almost like he was afraid to say outloud, Mama was going to get us a puppy.

Levi sighed. Their anniversary was in a couple weeks, at the beginning of June, and it would have been their fifth. Theirs compared to Petra’s parents, who were building toward thirty years of marriage, it seemed like the first of many. They were saving their second honeymoon for a later anniversary, and so Petra had decided that they would get a pet for Eren this year, and to commemorate the occasion, he and Petra would start trying for another baby. And now, June was void of that.

The rest of the ride to the ranch was quiet and empty; no one was out so early on a Saturday in this sleepy city. Of anyone he knew, the other Ackerman’s had by far the largest and most estately home. Out in the country like this, most people left their driveways unpaved, either for the extreme length of them, or the cost of maintaining a roadway, but theirs was cobblestoned. Behind the house were a neat row of barns, all five very large, neat, and identical.

There were somewhere around a dozen vehicles parked in the curve of the driveway, so Levi parked at the end of the line. Every summer and autumn, Krieg offered boarding to the hired hands who came up from the Colorado church, trustworthy youth to help manage the livestock, so Levi guessed these were the boarders’ vehicles. He saw Mikasa’s old Toyota tucked in the middle and for some unknown reason, the corners of his lips curved up.

To say that her first week on the job was a failure was an exaggeration, but only just so. Monday night, she had stayed until almost nine-- four hours after he’d gotten home and told her she could leave-- to finish the chore list. Levi had to hand it to Sensou. The severe woman may have raised a devilish girl, but she didn’t raise a quitter, and Mikasa’s sticktoitiveness was satisfactory. Every night, she’d left earlier, bit by bit, mastering the chores, until last night she had left in a timely fashion shortly after he arrived from work.

Of course, no sooner than she left, her parents had called to invite Levi and Eren to the ranch for the day.

Levi went around to get Eren out, and his son had dozed off at some point during the ride. Carrying the sleeping boy, Levi ascended the stairs up the porch and rang the doorbell. Instead of barking like he might get at another house, all he heard was the telltale scratching of interested dogs running up to the door fast as their feet could carry them. He could hear shooing from the other side and then the front door swung open to a very surprised looking Mikasa.

“Mr. Ackerman, is something wrong?” She asked, leaning over one stubborn border collie to open the storm door and let him in. Levi stepped around the dogs. How many of the mutts were there? He was new, and they all wanted to sniff him and greet him in that over-friendly fashion that only well taken care of canines seem to possess. There was a clicking somewhere further into the house, and the stampede of black and white headed for the sound.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Some of them are still puppies, so they don’t listen as well. Is everything okay?” Mikasa looked pointedly at Eren’s sleeping form.

“Yeah.” Levi couldn’t quite keep his brows from pushing together inquisitively. “Your mother and father invited us over.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, looking down at her feet for a moment, then over her shoulder, and finally at Levi. “They’re getting dressed. I’m sorry, I’m not as good at hosting as my mother. Um…” She looked over her shoulder again. “I’m about to make breakfast for everyone, so I guess you can lay Eren on the couch.”

“You don’t sound very sure.” Levi followed her suggestion anyway, made his way through the little foyer, and tucked Eren onto one of the loveseats in the sitting room between the kitchen and the living room.

When he came back, Mikasa was at the kitchen island, measuring out from a bulk bag of pancake mix into an equally bulk-sized bowl. Levi slid onto a stool at the bar over the sink to watch her, and when she turned around to get water, she jumped. He smirked at her.

Somewhere in the house, the clicking came again, followed by the stampede of border collies, a door closing, and then Sensou appeared in the kitchen. She greeted Levi enthusiastically and with a brief, tight hug, thanking him for coming. He could only nod and thank her for extending the invitation.

Sensou Ackerman had to be the tiniest person he’d ever seen. As she settled at the island next to her daughter, the top of her head only came to Mikasa’s shoulder. Levi watched as the two women mixed pancakes for an army, ladling the batter onto twin griddles at the stove and minding them, managing to make somewhere around a hundred pancakes without burning a single one. Levi assumed there were years of practise behind the skill. It was still impressive.

Mikasa covered the trays of pancakes with foil and then took from the fridge what Levi could only describe as more eggs than anyone should be allowed to own. As he sat captivated by the display, boys began to file into the kitchen, each offering a good morning and taking a seat in the next room on the benches at the long dining table. Sensou continued to flip eggs, but Mikasa deviated away to count plates and take them into the dining room, the boys all on their best manners when she came near. Levi watched curiously at the way the young men acted around her, going as far as to even call her “ ma’am .”

“They respect her,” Krieg said from behind him, and Levi turned, almost embarrassed that his scrutiny had been so obvious. “She’s stronger than any of them, except maybe Reiner.” Krieg pointed at a bulky blonde boy sitting at the further corner of the table. “But I’ll bet you a whole head of cattle she is stronger than him, too.”

“I’m smarter than to bet against her, Krieg.”

“Good man.” He clapped Levi’s shoulder and took up residence on the barstool next to him. Krieg Ackerman had been the first one to welcome Levi to the church when he was saved, and had become something of a spiritual mentor to Levi through the years. Over the last ten or twelve years, the man had stayed largely unchanged. He’d always had lighter hair, the kind of blonde that was more white than golden, and the tan from working long days never seemed to leave his face, even in the winter. But it was good work, honest work, and it provided for his family and any families in need, not that Krieg made his charities known. He was much more of a behind-the-scenes giver, blessing anyone who struggled anonymously through Pastor Erwin.

“I’m not gonna ask how you’re doin’, since the answer’s gonna be a little white lie.” Krieg lowered his voice. “I’ll be more direct. Still not used to it, are ya?”

Levi swallowed and looked at the stove and Sensou as she spooned eggs into a serving bowl. It pained him to admit it, but it felt good to have someone ask more than a general, vague, ‘How are you?’ “It still feels like yesterday, but also like it’s been a lifetime.”

Krieg nodded, but refrained from giving any empty comfort. Offering a smile and change of subject, he asked, “When’s the last time your city butt was on a horse, then?”

Levi chuckled. “Krieg, you were there. ”

“I was gonna let Eren ride with Mikasa, if that’s alright.”

“I don’t see why not,” Levi agreed. “It’ll be the safest place for him.”

“I know Mikasa can be bullheaded,” Krieg said suddenly, voice hushed, “but she’s not giving you any unnecessary trouble, is she?”

Levi crossed his arms over his chest and before he could answer, a small tug on his sleeve alerted him to a sleepy Eren standing there rubbing his eyes. Taking the distraction, Levi lifted his son up into his lap, sitting him facing out. As soon as he saw his nanny, Eren brightened right up, happily exclaiming, “Mikasa!”

The girl turned from the stove and grinned at Eren, who squirmed to be let down and then ran around the bar to her. She lifted him easily onto her hip, which surprised Levi because of Eren’s size. The preschooler took the opportunity to start chuntering endlessly with a patient ear at his disposal.

“I think,” Levi said, watching his son smile in the way he only did with Mikasa anymore, “that even if she were, it’s worthwhile.”

Chapter Text

Mikasa took Eren through the barn on her shoulders so that he could pet the horses while the ranch hands bustled around them, gearing up for the ride. From the talk over breakfast, it sounded like the cattle had wandered well down south and needed to be driven closer to home where the land was higher. Spring and early summer in the mountain plains were marked by excessive periods of rain, and the southern stretch of property was prone to flooding.

“Are you coming with us, Mikasa?” Reiner asked from behind her.

“Maybe after Eren’s had enough.” Eren’s hand came down in a wiggling ‘ gimme’ motion, and Mikasa deposited another sugar cube in his wet palm. He giggled in anticipation and held it out for the serene appaloosa, whose tongue flicked over his hand several times to ensure that every particle of sugar was collected.

“Mikasa, what’s this horse’s name?” He asked, sentence broken up by his laughter.

“Goldie; this is my mother’s favourite.”

“Goldie?”

“Uh-huh.” Mikasa reached out to rub her hand down the mare’s snout before stepping around to the next stall, a younger colt called Dizzy. “Do all these horses look similar?”

“Yeah!” Eren paused. “What’s smimular?”

“ Similiar ; it means they are alike. Do you think they all look like each other?”

“Yeah!” She gave him another sugar cube for Dizzy and Eren just about fell from her shoulders with his giggles.

“They’re the same breed,” Mikasa explained. “This kind of horse is called Appaloosa.”

“Like apples? Are they apple horses?”

Mikasa smiled. “They’re for stock, meaning they work around other animals.”

“Like what?”

“Cattle,” Reiner interrupted before Mikasa could answer. The blonde stepped around into Mikasa’s line of sight with her saddle on his hip. “Have you ever seen a cow up close, Eren?”

“No,” he answered quietly, and she could tell by his tone that he was probably shaking his head with wide, curious eyes.

Reiner held his hand up against his chest. “They’re this big!”

“Really?” Eren leaned forward in interest, and Mikasa took the opportunity to let him down from her shoulders. They’d already visited half of the stalls and she was out of sugar cubes anyway. Eren went up to Reiner and held his hands up over his head, trying to reach where the young man held his hand up for height comparison. “Whoa, they’re taller than me!”

“And guess what? They’re red angus, so they’re orange cows,” Reiner teased. “Have you seen that before?”

“Cows can’t be orange !”

Reiner laughed and lowered his hand to shift Mikasa’s saddle before he asked her, “Are you taking Blue Boy?”

She nodded and reached to take her saddle, but he twisted it away and waggled a finger at her. “You’ve got Eren. Allow me.”

Ordinarily, she would have smacked his finger away and taken her saddle regardless, but she was breaking her ungodly habits one by one, remolding herself into the kind of young woman that she was expected to be. The changes weren’t her favourite, but her mother was thrilled, so she continued to bit her tongue and adjust her attitude. Besides, Reiner was a decent man and a favourite around the ranch. He was the first the arrive every spring and the last to leave every autumn, he knew the workings of the ranch as well as she did, and because he was always offering his help wherever he could, she overlooked the obvious implications behind him saddling her horse and agreed. “Alright.”

Reiner smiled at her in a way that made her cross her arms defensively, and then he turned his attention onto Eren again. “Hey, do you want to come and see the cattle with us?”

“Can I?” The preschooler turned his best begging pout up to Mikasa. “Can we go see the cows, please?”

“Oh, ‘ please ’, you say? Let’s go ask your father.” She took Eren’s hand but before they left, she said to Reiner a quiet, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied in tones just as hushed.

Levi was standing on the back porch with her father, both men no doubt observing as the hands busied about with their tasks. Once they were far enough from the barns and the potentially dangerous traffic, she let go of Eren's hand and he ran back, exclaiming loudly, “Mister Reiner said I can go see cows!”

Levi’s eyebrows rose and then he slid his gaze to Mikasa. She shook her head as she approached.

“That’s what we came to ask about,” she said once she was close enough, stopping at the bottom step. “Reiner showed Eren their height and asked if he wanted to go see them.”

“That’s a long ride for a four year old,” Levi said. He came to the edge of the porch and looked down at her. “Do you think he’ll sit still for it?”

“He wouldn’t really have a choice. But I’ll keep the pace slow.”

“Saddle up and ride with them,” her father suggested, and Mikasa hoped that was a joke. The last time the other Ackermans were at the ranch, Levi had circled the corral once before he upset the horse and had to dismount. How her father expected him to make it down to the southern acres--

“No, no.” Levi put his hand on the top of his son’s head and ruffled his hair. “You have to sit nicely and wait to see the cows, Eren. You can’t wiggle and fuss.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. You do exactly as Mikasa says, alright?”

“Okay, Dad.” Eren whirled around and skipped down the steps to Mikasa’s side. She grabbed his hand before he could run off where it was busy. The ranch hands already on horseback were queueing up between the barns, but there was not a border collie in sight. Mikasa lifted her chin and clicked her tongue a few times, waited, and then repeated the sound. A bark sounded from inside the house, and almost instantly, her mother opened the back door and the pack poured out, eagerly circling Mikasa and Eren. The boy was in another fit of giggles over the attention from the dogs, their long tongues acquainting with him and his scent, and he welcomed their licking.

Briefly, she wondered if she should offer Levi a puppy from the next litter, whenever that would be, but the thought was interrupted by the sight of Reiner leaving the stables and guiding two horses, Mikasa’s Blue Boy and his own favourite, Dapples. She drew the dogs’ attention from Eren with a few snaps of her fingers, and the border collies all sat in anticipation. Someone must have clicked for them, because in unison, they all darted off to where the ranch hands were ready and waiting.

“Okay, Eren,” Levi said, descending the steps toward his son. “You’ll listen to Mikasa, right?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“No matter what she tells you to do?”

“ Yeah , Dad!” Eren tugged Mikasa’s hand to go, and she walked him over to where Reiner waited with her horse.

;;;

“What did Sensou say to that boy,” Krieg murmured after his daughter and her charge headed off to their waiting horse and Levi rejoined him on the porch.

Levi shrugged, his gaze still on his son. He watched Mikasa hoist the boy onto the saddle with Reiner’s help, and then climb up herself. She wore a long skirt as usual, but today, there were jeans underneath, preserving her modesty while still letting her ride astraddle, and somehow, Levi wasn’t surprised by that. The girl may look like a lady, but he knew deep down that Mikasa’s spirit was too headstrong for the church.  “Is your wife still eager to get Mikasa married off?”

“Since the day she turned seventeen,” Krieg agreed and shook his head. “I swear. Mikasa has never accepted Reiner’s help.”

“Are you worried?” Levi turned to face his friend.

“I don’t want Sensou to get into her head, and then she settle for whoever offers marriage. We don’t have a son to pass everything on to, but that doesn’t mean I need to gain a son-in-law.” Krieg smoothed his hand over his face and then shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the back door opened, and out with a few more dogs came Sensou, carrying a pair of steaming mugs which she gave to both of the Ackerman men.

“Your ears must’ve been burnin’,” Krieg said before she could retreat back into the house again. He pointed to where the group of riders were gathered. “What you say to Reiner? He saddled Blue Boy up this morning.”

Sensou’s eyes darted to Levi before landing on her husband. “I told him that she would need another pair of helping hands, having Eren with her.”

Krieg took an experimental sip from his mug while she spoke, and then replied, “You know that girl don’t need any help.”

“You’re right, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to see her around a child. She’s much more proper now, and she’s got such a reputation--”

“Goodness, sweetheart, these boys respect Mikasa regardless of that.” Krieg turned from Levi to face his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, bringing her into his side. “She’s gonna be fine, she doesn’t need a husband right now. And she don’t want one, not with the way she’s gone all ‘mama bear’ over Eren, isn’t that right, Levi?”

Levi nodded and stepped back, hoping to stay out of the conversation at hand. Eren wouldn’t start attending school until next year, and if someone wanted to court his nanny, it would most likely end up with him needing a replacement, and he didn’t want to think about that. Not just because he was a very private person, but because Mikasa respected his grief, even if she didn’t understand it.

And he appreciated her, for the way she did wonders for Eren. His son had attached to the young woman and she had held on just as tight, until they were like a welded joint, and their bond pacified and comforted Eren in a way Levi was not able to. Yes, he was a little jealous, but it was more important that his son have someone special than for Levi to be the favourite in his little life. If Mikasa were taken away from them by a marriage, Levi was sure that it would, to Eren, feel like loosing his mama all over again. He couldn’t let that happen-- not yet, anyway. Not until Eren was old enough to understand.

So he spoke up. “Sensou, I think this is where God intends for her to be right now. I believe He’s bringing something good out of the devil’s destruction. She’s been a blessing in our lives.” The words sounded hollow and insincere because at this point Levi was almost confident that there was no god, but he said them anyway, for the sake of his son.

Sensou looked at him in scrutiny for a moment before she nodded. “Right. Of course.”

Krieg squeezed his wife’s shoulders. “She’ll get married someday, when she’s happy. Don’t rush her too much, or she’ll get stuck in something she regrets.”

Sensou nodded again and then smiled before excusing herself back in the house. When the door shut, Levi finally took the first drink of coffee from his mug. The two men watched as the group of riders slowly began to disperse, Mikasa with Eren tucked against her chest taking up the rear with the border collies trailing behind.

“Levi,” Krieg said in the sudden quiet. “I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Did Pastor say anything to you about the difference between widows and widowers?”

Levi swallowed, remembering the tense meeting. There’s a reason women mourn and men replace …. “Yeah, he did. I didn’t take it seriously.”

Krieg looked out over the property when he said, “He said the same thing to Sensou.”

Chapter Text

Levi and Krieg were in the sitting room, talking over mid morning coffee, when one of the ranch hands, Andrew, came bursting into the house, dragging with him the unmistakable smell of cattle. The elder Ackerman jumped to his feet in dread.

“Mikasa’s hurt!” Andrew, blurted, barely stopped to catch his breath before he ran back out, and that set both of the fathers into action. They followed Andrew back outside to where the riders were all congregated, Eren with Reiner, and Mikasa alone, her left knee hooked over the horn, riding side saddle.

Levi was the first to speak, a worried father still in the clutches of grief and loss. Krieg let him have that. If Mikasa rode back, she’s fine. “What happened?”

Krieg watched as a flare of guilt washes Eren’s face, but Mikasa comes to the boy’s defense. She nudged Blue Boy closer to Levi and explained. “I thought Eren might fall, and when I went to catch him, I fell instead.”

That didn’t satisfy Levi. “What was Eren doing to make you think that?”

“Nothing,” she said, too quickly. “Nothing, he was only looking at the cattle and petting them.”

Reiner spoke up next, cutting Levi’s question off before he could ask. “Eren didn’t leave the saddle, he's not hurt. Only Mikasa fell off.”

Krieg had never seen Reiner back down, but the look that Levi gave him did the trick. That was enough. The elder Ackerman stepped forward into the circle to break the tension. “Alright, let’s get these horses put away. Reiner, get Eren back to his father.” He went to his daughter and held his hands up, and Mikasa took his help to dismount.

“I think it’s just twisted,” she told her father as she kept her left ankle lifted, hopping her way back with an arm over Krieg’s shoulders.

“I’ve never seen you limp like that on a twist, Mika.” Low enough that Eren wouldn’t hear, he asked, “Was Eren wiggling too much?”

“Yes, but don’t say anything,” she pleaded quietly. “It’s not his fault. I don’t want him to feel guilty.”

“Levi already knows, the same way I already know. Our children can’t fool us,” Krieg reminded her. She nodded. Krieg took her to the dining room and sat her in the chair at the head of the table. Mikasa winced and crossed her left leg over the right to take off her boot and inspect her injury.

Her ankle was already visibly swollen, bright red against the rest of her pale skin. “Okay, Dad, maybe it’s more than twisted.”

Krieg called for Sensou, his wife hovered near in all the commotion, holding and comforting Eren who had started to cry.

“It’s not your fault, Eren,” Mikasa said when she caught sight of the preschooler’s tears. He reached for his nanny and she took him from her mother despite the displeased look from Levi, who hung back.

“I’m s-sorry!” The four-year-old bawled, buried his face into her chest and then looped his arms around her neck. Mikasa returned the embrace.

“It’s okay, Eren, don’t cry.”

That seemed to be too much or Levi, who finally came forward. “No, no, it’s not okay. Mikasa, this happened because he didn’t listen to you in a potentially dangerous situation.”

Krieg pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He could see that Levi wanted Eren to understand the cause-and-effect of his misbehaving, but Mikasa was determined to defend Eren like a mother bear. “Levi.”

The younger Ackerman turned narrowed eyes onto him but didn’t say anything else, stewing silently. When Reiner came back with the first aid kit, Levi snatched it from him and knelt in front of Mikasa without a word. Krieg watched with his own curiosity, as his daughter looked over Eren’s shoulder down at Levi, her eyes wide as Levi took her ankle, cleaned it, slathered it in numbing cream, and wrapped it tightly, all off his movements expert and efficient. By the time he was finished, Eren’s sobbing had quietened, and when Levi looked up, his gaze met Mikasa’s before falling onto the mop of brown.

“You’re right,” Levi uttered, humbled. Krieg had never seen him apologise with anything less than a chastisement from Pastor Erwin, but here, now, with Mikasa, he gave it freely. “It was an accident.”

Mikasa nodded and flexed her ankle in its snug confines. She took her eyes from Levi and dipped her head, clearly embarrassed to have him kneeling before her and tending to her injury, and for a fleeting moment, Krieg wondered. But then, she was nudging Eren, asking him, “Hey, want to tell your father about the cows?”

Eren pulled his head back and shook it before nestling back against Mikasa. She wasn’t going to give up so easily. “Come on, Eren, tell him about the orange cows. What did they feel like when you touched them?”

“They’re hairy,” he said, forced and grumpy.

“And what else?” Mikasa pulled away from Eren enough to look down at him with as easy a smile as she could muster. “Can you tell him how big they are?”

That jolted life right back into the child. “Yeah!” He turned in Mikasa’s lap and held his hands up over his head. “Papa, we were on Blue Boy and the cows are smimalar size!”

“Similar,” Mikasa corrected gently. “Yes, they are similar to the horses, aren’t they?”

“Are they bigger than me?” Levi asked to engage in the conversation and that’s when Krieg decided he’d seen enough and went into the kitchen. His wife was at the sink, and he embraced her from behind. Whatever she was up to with Reiner, he would ask her to stop, later when they were alone in their room that night. Krieg knew Levi did not see Mikasa through a lense of romance, not so soon after Petra, but he looked at her with a sense of need, as if she were holding his life together for him.courting and engagement only lasted a few months before a marriage took place, and if Reiner pursued Mikasa and she accepted, Krieg knew they would marry before the end of the summer. He wasn't ready to give away his daughter, his only child. And Mikasa wasn't ready, either, because she was still needed somewhere else.

The other Ackermans stayed for lunch and left shortly after with a thoroughly exhausted Eren, who had chased dogs up and down the front stretch of the driveway and climbed trees to his heart’s content under his nanny’s supervision. When Mikasa hobbled in from the front porch after waving them off, Krieg called her into the sitting room and told her to sit down and give her ankle a rest. “You're lookin’ pretty worn out now that you've got no one to run after.”

Mikasa laughed and stretched out her left leg. “It's not so bad.”

“You'll be done for in the morning.”

Krieg was correct. The next morning, Mikasa hobbled into the kitchen after breakfast, gripping the counters for dear life as she made her way to the dining table. The boys were all getting ready and leaving for Sunday church service, but Reiner stopped to lend his arm to Mikasa when she had wobbled. Krieg watched as the blonde boy was careful not to touch her more than professionally, out of respect and most likely out of fear, but Sensou’s playing matchmaker needed to end.

Chapter Text

8.

After that Saturday, Mikasa did her best to stay out from under Levi Ackerman’s feet. It wasn’t because of the fact that she’d sprained her ankle, but instead because Levi had been the one to tend her injury. She didn't know why, but remembering the way he looked, like a humble servant as he wrapped her injury, gave her an unpleasant feeling in her stomach.

Every weekday night for the rest of May, she had dinner ready as Levi came home, and since she would stay to wash dishes and get Eren ready for bed, she ate dinner with them. Eren was always happy to engage his father in conversation, telling him all about what he and Mikasa did that day and she was glad he was there to fill the awkward space she created.

Levi didn't ask about her ankle until the first Friday of June. Mikasa stood at the sink, running water into a mug to make Levi a cup of tea, when he came in. Eren was still in bed sleeping, predictable as Levi had called her last night to tell her that the four-year-old was coming under the weather.

“Is the sprain still bothering you?” Levi asked where he was sitting at the table.

Mikasa looked over her shoulder and then turned off the tap. After she poured the water into the Keurig and got it set up with his preferred k-cup, she finally faced him. “Some, yes.”

Levi hummed in acknowledgement. “Let me look at it before I leave.”

“No, it's fine,” she said quickly and waved her hand to dismiss the idea. “It's fine.”

“If you insist,” Levi said, but his eyes dropped to her ankle one last time before he moved his attention back to his phone.

Mikasa bit her lip as she watched while the machine prepared his tea. She could feel her face was hot and she didn't understand why. It made her feel stupid and childish, because she had no reason to be embarrassed around him. It was nearly a month since she had begun working for him, why was there awkwardness in her body around him now?

Levi drank his tea slowly, and she could feel him watching her as she sliced vegetables, tossing them in a pot to make chicken noodle soup for Eren. Mikasa tried to relax, but when she felt Levi brush his arm against hers on his to way to putting the dirty mug in the sink, she flinched and the knife clattered on the cutting board.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked, one of his hands on her shoulder, and she had to talk herself down from pulling away. Not trusting her voice, she nodded and picked up the knife again. Her cheeks burned as Levi looked her over one last time. “I’ll be home as usual, but call me if Eren begins to worsen.”

Mikasa nodded without looking at him again. She focused on her vegetables as she listened to him moving through the house, and then he shut the front door as he left. A sigh of relief escaped her.

It was Friday and so after this, she would be able to have a day to herself without seeing Levi at all. It was easy to say her avoidance came from wanting to avoid his doubts about God. He refused to say a blessing over dinner, but luckily Eren liked to be the one to say grace; Levi didn’t say prayers with Eren, so Mikasa did it instead. He was still acting like God didn’t exist, selfishly taking his anger out at God and only condemning himself in the process. She knew what he was doing was wrong, but she still didn’t feel that it was her place to intercede, so all she did was include him and his salvation in her own nightly prayers. It was something expected of a righteous woman, the kind of woman Mikasa was still struggling to embody.

Levi’s doubts did not persuade her, but rather, gave rebirth to the doubts she had previously harbored, and that frightened her. Where two or more gather in agreement, there was truth. Yet, she knew that there was no truth in a life without God. She needed to encourage him to repent and turn away from his sin before he damned her, too.

Chicken noodle soup had been one of the first proper meals that Mikasa had learned to cook. It wasn’t as good as Sasha’s, but it was good enough for a sick preschooler. Once Mikasa had the large pot on the stove over low heat so that it could simmer for a couple hours, she went to check on Eren.

He was still sleeping soundly. When Levi had informed her that Eren was sick, he had let her know that it was likely just a mild fever without any of the messier symptoms like vomit or diarrhea. Mikasa tip-toed closer and then pushed Eren’s bangs up from his forehead to give him a kiss. He’d be back to normal very soon, and she knew better than to worry herself sick over a little fever. True, it hurt her in a place along the seams of her heart, having to see him go through this, but she knew in the end, he would be just fine.

After checking on Eren, Mikasa set into doing the chores. She washed the few dishes and put them on the rack to dry, then swept and mopped the mostly clean kitchen floor. Laundry went into the washing machine next, the load running while she vacuumed all of the carpets and rugs and washed any new finger smudges from the windows. Mikasa was about to move the laundry into the dryer when she heard a toilet flush, followed a few moments later by bare feet slapping onto the tiles behind her.

“Mikasa,” Eren’s sleepy voice called, a little frightened. She turned to ask him what was wrong, and he was standing there naked, tears welling in his eyes in shame. “Mikasa, I had an accident....”

“Oh, Eren,” Mikasa said softly, shutting the dryer and setting it for forty minutes. She picked Eren up and held him against her, taking him toward the bathroom at the end of the hallway of bedrooms. “It’s okay, let’s have a bath.”

Instead of dressing him in proper clothing, Mikasa got Eren dressed in a clean pair of pajamas, patterned with racecars. He assured her that he didn’t have to go potty again, but Mikasa laid a clean towel under him anyway where he stretched along the large sectional in the den. While he settled into a movie about the same racecar characters that were on his pajamas, Mikasa stripped his bed all the way down to the waterproof mattress protector and put everything into the washing machine.

Halfway through his movie, she paused it and made him go sit at the table and eat soup. Eren did more playing with his food than eating it, drawing out his meal longer than necessary with his whining.

In the earliest part of the afternoon, Eren began to throw up, and Mikasa called Levi when Eren was no longer able to hold down fluids. She gave him a fever reducer and antiemetic combination, thanking God when he didn’t vomit that back. The medicine made him sleepy, and holding him in the calm warmth of the den made her sleepy as well.

9.

Levi came home to a quiet house, and he found the reason for it in the last room that he checked. Mikasa was stretched out along the sectional with Eren in her arms. For a moment, Levi stood there, unable to look away. Many times when his son was younger, he would catch terrible bugs like this, and Levi would come home to find Petra asleep on the couch with him exactly the same way.

It made Petra’s absence that much more painful, but in the midst of it, Levi did not feel hopeless. Mikasa was there, taking the place of a mother for Eren, even though she was far from mother material. It seemed that she only had a soft spot for the child, and Levi wondered if she were harboring the same for Reiner.

He could not call himself jealous. Reiner Braun was a righteous man from a righteous family of devout church members. Marrying him would forgive Mikasa’s reputation as a deviant young woman and allow her to move on from her sin of breaking Jean Kirschtein’s nose. Otherwise, she might never live that down. No, Levi wasn’t jealous of Reiner, but he also did not want Mikasa to be taken away from Eren yet.

Still, it was no business of his whether Mikasa felt inclined to reciprocate Reiner’s growing affection for her. He could not control her the way her parents were expected to, and truthfully, Mikasa could not be controlled. Krieg had raised her too independent for that, and Levi somewhat doubted her intent to ever marry. He suspected that any desires for marriage stemmed from a desire to repent and prove herself as a Godly woman.

Levi left Mikasa to have her nap with Eren. It was only the early afternoon anyway, and he was home early. The chicken noodle soup that she had been making when he left for work was still in a pot on the stove, and he served himself a bowl without heating it up. Eren was very likely going to sleep most of the night, but Levi would stay up and keep an eye on him.

Eren slept past his usual nap time and Mikasa did as well, and at about four that afternoon, Levi was on his way into the den to wake her up when he heard someone rustling around.

“Please, Mikasa?” He heard Eren whine quietly, still very sleepy with his fever.

“I’m sorry, Eren, I have to go home soon. But, your father is here with you now.”

“I don’t want him,” Eren replied, and Levi’s heart stung a little bit at the rejection. However, that sting was soothed instantly when Eren added, “Not Dad, you.”

“I cannot stay,” Mikasa said firmly, but Levi could hear the strain in her resolve. Carefully, Levi went back up the way and into the kitchen so the two could have their privacy. Without realising what he was doing, Levi had his phone out and scrolled through his call log until he came upon Krieg’s name.

Was it his place to decide for her? It would be easy for him to call Krieg and tell him that Mikasa was needed here overnight, but that was a violation of her autonomy. Not the mention, children did not understand scandal, and that was what would shroud them should anyone know she stayed overnight.

No, Levi decided and put his phone away. This was Mikasa’s decision. He wouldn’t take it away from her, no matter how much he wanted to keep her there for Eren’s sake.

Chapter Text

She had planned to depart as soon as Levi got home, but Eren clung to her in a way that made her delay. Mikasa couldn't leave him now that he was in worse condition, so she stayed until her normal time and of course, that turned out to be a mistake.

Eren must have picked up a stomach bug at the library yesterday, and now Mikasa had caught it as well. It took only twelve hours of contact for her to start throwing up too, and then she cleaned up after herself and went to kitchen. Levi was sitting at the table with a laptop, and Eren was curled up contently in his father’s lap.

“You caught it too?” Levi asked, conversational. “Do you need to stay here and wait to be picked up?”

Mikasa was glad that she was so ill that she could mask her reaction. A fierce twisting knotted up her stomach and made her grimace. She knew that Eren would be more than happy to have her stay later than usual, but the thought of being around Levi made her feel dizzy all over.

“No,” she said plainly. She would be able to drive soon. Eren was smaller than her and his body could not bare the same taxing that hers could. After the initial throwing up, she would be able to drive herself home, and if she needed to pull over and empty her stomach into the ditch, that was going to be her secret. “I'll drive. It'll be fine.”

“Alright.” Levi turned his eyes back to his laptop, content not to bother her. “You've been paid, by the way.”

With Eren being sick, Mikasa had actually forgotten that. Not that she actually did anything with the money yet. It was all currently piling up in the joint account that Levi transferred it to every Friday, and other than giving tithe to the church, she didn’t mess with it.

“Thank you,” she said. “Do you need anything before I go?”

“No, Mikasa, that’s all.”

There was another fierce twist in her gut when he said her name that made her stomach lurch.

;;;

Her parents invited Jean and Sasha over for dinner the next night, and she finally got to talk to her best friend about Levi. Sasha sat on a barstool at the island while Mikasa washed the pots, and they spoke quietly. About halfway through Mikasa’s confessional, Sasha began to smile brightly.

“What?”

Sasha shook her head and said, “You’ve got a crush on him.”

Mikasa bristled and tensed, then looked away and rinsed out the last pot. After she set it on the drying rack, she denied it. “No, I just… I don’t know, but I don’t have a crush on him.”

In disbelief, Sasha hummed.

“I don’t!”

“Mika, you’re getting nervous butterflies around him.”

“Whatever,” she muttered. Butterflies, what was she, five? “I don’t want to talk about it. Can I touch your belly?”

“Sure.” Sasha slid off her stool and came around the island to stand before Mikasa. She was finally beginning to look pregnant, just shy of halfway through. Mikasa wrapped one arm about her friend in a side hug and splayed her free hand low on Sasha’s abdomen. “You can feel quickening if you press in.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No.” Sasha laid her hand over Mikasa’s and pressed in, and when there came a quick tap from inside her womb, Mikasa couldn’t hold in her shriek.

“I felt it!” She’d never experienced this before. Things like pregnancy held no interest for her before Sasha’s announcement-- the wondrous mystery had been spoiled when she started helping her father birth stubborn lambs when she was fourteen.

Sasha held her hands up in approximation, cupping them together. “Baby is this big now.”

Mikasa knew the stages of human development in the womb, but it amazed her that Sasha, whom she had grown into adulthood with, was hosting a living being inside her. “I still can’t believe you’re having a baby.”

“Me either,” Sasha said and wrapped her arms around Mikasa’s shoulders, pulling her in close. Mikasa was conscience of the little bump between them. “I can’t wait for you to get married and have babies, too. I want our children to grow up together like we did.”

“Sorry to make you wait.” Mikasa buried her face in Sasha’s neck and sighed. “It might be soon, though. Reiner has been… attentive.”

“What?” She gasped, trying to push Mikasa back to look at her face, but Mikasa squeezed her tight in refusal. Hands came up to pet her hair. “Did he…?”

“I think he wants to ask Father for permission.” Dating wasn’t a norm for them. There was friendship, courtship, and marriage. Reiner was three years older than her and she’s known him for several years now, she knew he would be a fitting husband. He knew God’s Word well, and he lived a humble and steadfast life according to it. But she didn’t feel anything for him other than a sort of kinship born of ranch work.

Mikasa felt like she was being pulled in too many directions. Eren. And by proximity, Levi. And Reiner. She groaned, “I wish that I didn’t have to get married.”

Despite the fact that she had decided to do what was expected of her and become a wife, Mikasa could not shake the lingering disdain. Part of her wondered if Levi’s own lack of faith was beginning to infect her.

Sasha kissed her cheek. “It’ll be good for you, I promise.”

Chapter Text

It seemed that her fate was decided in the Wednesday before Father’s Day. Mikasa arrived home at usual time, and her thoughts were so wrapped up in what gift she and Eren would get for Levi during their outing tomorrow, that she walked past the sitting room without noticing her parents sitting there with Reiner.

“Mikasa, honey,” her mother called as Mikasa ascended the stairs. “It's important.”

Suppressing a sigh, Mikasa stomped down the stairs and into the sitting room. “Yes?”

“Sit down,” Sensou said, a tight smile to hide her annoyance at Mikasa’s less-than-perfect behaviour. She pretended not to notice it when she took a seat in an open armchair.

Her mother began to speak but Mikasa didn't listen. Eren had promised to keep the gift a surprise from Levi, but now Mikasa’s nervousness got the best of her. Was a fountain pen a good enough gift? She knew that Eren’s handmade storybook of all the reasons he loved his father was a homerun for sure, but was it appropriate for her to give him something, as well?

“Well?”

Mikasa looked over and her mother.

“Were you listening to me?”

Mikasa answered, plainly, “No.”

“Reiner asked permission for a courtship,” her father informed her. She was glad he cut to the chase. “Told him it's up to you and only you.”

“Well?” Her mother asked again, clearly eager for the response.

Strangely, Mikasa felt nothing. There was no excitement. The very thought of being married and becoming the caretaker of her own home under a husband, it stirred a vague sense of disappointment, even though Reiner had spoken to her a few days ago about it. She knew that it was necessary, but it felt like a chore. Reiner was a good and godly man from a righteous family. Being his wife would reward her righteousness by association. It should be all she hoped for.

“Sure.” Mikasa stood and excused herself, intending to go straight to bed since she’d had dinner with Levi and Eren before coming home. That past Saturday, Reiner had approached her on the ride through the cattle and spoken with her privately, so he already knew her answer. This was all a show and Mikasa did not like to perform. “Goodnight.”

Over her mother’s exasperated scoff and her father’s stifled chuckle, Reiner agreed, “Goodnight.”

;;;

The courtship was made public in the Sunday service bulletin. After church, while women tried to congregate around her and hound her for information, Mikasa had a small gift bag in her hands and one person on her mind.

She found Levi outside of children’s church in the fellowship hall, the emptiness giving them some privacy. He held Eren’s hand in one of his own, and in the other was the Father’s Day storybook.

“Eren says you helped him make this,” Levi said for greeting, holding up the colourfully bound construction paper. “Thank you.”

“He wanted to,” Mikasa defended, feeling suddenly very hot. She offered the gift bag, swallowing back a surge of ridiculousness at the green tissue paper poking from the top.

“We picked a new pen for you!” Eren blurted, clearly excited and forgetting their deal of secrecy.

Mikasa let out a tiny laugh. “It's nothing special,” she lied. It had cost nearly seventy dollars.

Levi took the proffered bag with another, kinder, “Thank you.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, and then Levi shifted his weight. “Congratulations… on your courtship.”

“Oh… yeah, that.” Mikasa looked down at her dress shoes and then at Eren, who looked confused.

“What's a cord-- courtship?”

“It means Mikasa is going to get married.”

Eren’s brows furrowed as he made an expression of distaste, and then he bumped his body into Mikasa’s legs and wrapped his arms around them. “But I want to marry Mikasa!”

“You're a little young for that,” Levi said, reaching out to ruffle his son’s hair.

Mikasa smiled down at Eren and bent so that she could embrace him. “It's okay. I won't get married for a long time. Not until after you start school next year.”

“An extended courtship?” Levi questioned, in surprise. Most engagements lasted a couple months, long enough to put together everything for a ceremony and settle on newlywed living arrangements. There were always exceptions, like when a couple was long distance. Short waiting periods were the norm, otherwise, the temptation to break purity vows might grow too strong. Mikasa understood why virginity was considered a big deal, how it would affect bonding, but she didn't understand what difference a ceremony and a piece of paper made. The couples who ‘slipped up’ before their wedding seemed just as content as the ones who did the ‘proper thing.’

“Yes.” She craned her neck sideways to look at Levi. “It's on my terms or not at all.”

Levi looked like he was expecting her to say something like that.

After going separate ways, Mikasa ended up in the foyer, standing next to Reiner while congratulations rained down on them. Several times, older women tried to hide the way their eyes skittered over Mikasa’s midsection in inquiry, but she wasn't afraid to call them out.

“We’re not waiting because of a pregnancy,” she would explain, to their mild horror at being addressed. “It's otherwise complicated, with our fathers’ businesses and all.”

Reiner walked with her to her parents’ car once their well-wishers had all parted. Politely, and more important, properly, he did not touch her other than to hold her hand. Mikasa had seen the way other couples clasped hands and interlocked fingers as if everything depended on it. She had no desire for that with Reiner. He didn't seem to mind.

Of course he wouldn’t mind. When he came to her, a week ago, to find out her feelings, he had given her some valuable insight in exchange. Reiner Braun was good and godly, but not without his own mortal flaws.

“I am attracted to men,” he’d told her quietly, shamefully. “I think it would be a good idea to marry before I commit a terrible sin.”

For whatever reason, the news did not disgust Mikasa at all. The only thing she’d wanted to know, “Why me?”

“Because I prayed and God showed me how I might fit in your heart.” Reiner had scratched the back of his neck and drawn in a deep breath. “We are both… unconventional. You do not want to be a wife owned by her husband. I do not want to have a woman hanging on me. You’re… fiercely independent. I respect you for that, even though I’ve been taught to look down on it. I can only hope that you would allow me to offer you a marriage for... convenience… something we can both draw benefit from. If you wanted children, I can… I could perform my marital duty to father them, but-- but, only then. And if you don’t want children, we-- we don’t have to, ah, pursue it. But. If you could stand to pretend with me for the sake of appearances… would you?”

Mikasa had been silent but unshocked for his declaration. Finally, tugging Blue Boy’s reins, she’d said, “It would make my mother extremely happy. Not to mention, my salvation would be settled.”

“Your salvation,” Reiner had echoed. “I would remain committed to you. I would not trespass in a way that would damn you, too.”

“Marriage,” Mikasa whispered, looking out over the hills to the structures on the horizon. “Do you want to stay here or live in Colorado Springs with your family?”

“Here.” Reiner nudged in close to her, their stirrups touching. “You’d be doing me a tremendous honour, and I know the ranch is your life. I can’t take you away from it.”

Reiner grabbed the horn of her saddle to steady himself as he leaned over, on the edge of socially acceptable. Mikasa covered his hand with one of hers. “I made a promise to Mister Ackerman to care for Eren. I’ll take your offer, but only if you agree to wait until Eren begins kindergarten.”

“Next fall.” Reiner had nodded, unbothered. “I’ve got no fire in my loins that I’m rushing to soothe. We’ll take as much time as you want.”

“Next fall.” Mikasa sighed, not in defeat, yet not in relief. “A long engagement. We’ll keep this conversation between us?”

“Our secret,” Reiner had promised. His hand withdrew from hers and ghosted over her shoulder. “I’ll ask your parents on Wednesday, after bible study.”