Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the ship had first pulled into the harbor, the first thing Jean wanted to do was desperately get on solid land and never get off again. Not that the ride was bad (he’s lying, it was horrible), but he could only handle his seasickness—that he didn’t even know he had—to a certain extent.

Sasha nearly fell to the floor in laughter as soon as Jean had started heaving just a few steps into the dock area while Connie didn’t hide his displeasure, loudly yelling for the boy to stop or else he might just throw up too. 

It was Mikasa who had, without much of an amused glance (though Jean swore he could see a small smile on her face), ushered the trio off of the dock, murmuring apologies to the patrons who gave them judgmental and agitated stares. 

“Not even five minutes and you lot are already embarrassments.” Levi said with a displeased scowl on his face. 

Hanji clicked their tongue, “Come off it, Levi. They’ve never been on a ship before, you can’t blame them for getting a little sick.”

“A little is one way of saying it. Jean was practically throwing up the whole ride!” Connie remarked. 

Jean, to the left of Levi, groaned miserably. “If you talk about the ship any more, I might actually–”

“Don’t.” Levi grimaced, angling his hat lower to cover his face from the beaming sun. “I’d rather not witness you make a fool of yourself in a place like this.” 

Jena nearly walked into Hanji as they suddenly stopped with a shout. A familiar figure stood in front of them with a welcoming smile. He greeted them with a lift of his hat. “I assure you, it’s not the worst people in the dock have probably seen.” Onyakapon reassured, apparently having overheard the Scouts banter, “It’s more common than you think.”

“Wouldn’t make it any less embarrassing for him.” Sasha said, grinning when Jean sent her a dirty glare. 

Onyakapon shook his head. “To the matter at hand. I would like to formally welcome you to the continent of Marley. Before you start exploring, I’ll guide you to Azumabito estate, that way you won’t have to lug around your luggage for too long–”

“What the hell is that!” Connie yelled, suddenly pointing to a–a thing—Jean doesn’t even know how to describe it. Some kind of large black box with wheels with a person riding at the front but there didn’t seem to be anything pulling its weight. He heard Sasha say something about a cow while Hanji started yelling and waving about whatever a car was. It only took a quick glance around for Mikasa and Jean to realize that people were staring. 

Jean tilted his hat down, pointedly looking at the floor as he began to walk off. “Pretend we aren’t with them.” 

Mikasa followed, watching as the trio began chasing the thing screaming and waving. Onyakapon had a sheepish smile as he watched them run off. 

“We should stop them before they start trying to feed the thing carrots,” Levi said. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, surely they wouldn’t–”

“No,” Jean shook his head, frowning, watching as Connie showed a handful of coins at a poor vendor's open palm while Sasha snagged a couple of carrots, yelling and running after Hanji. “No, they are.” 

It took ages to get Hanji, Connie and Sasha away from the car, Onyakapon nervously laughing and profusely apologizing to the confused man whilst shoving the trio towards the direction of the estate.

It took awhile to get settled in.

From the buzzing of getting the meeting room ready to unpacking and getting settled in their temporary rooms for an indefinite amount of time, Jean could feel his bones ache. He knew about becoming exhausted from training and constant fighting but he felt like sitting on his ass the whole boat ride threw him off even more. 

A light rapping at his door stopped him in the midst of punching the overly fluffy pillow down. 

“Jean?” It was Mikasa, “Captain says to rest for today. We’ll start investigating tomorrow.”

“Alright!” 

Jean huffed, leaning back slightly to ease the pain in his back, his hands resting on his hips. His eyes drift to the window, spotting the setting sun on the horizon from the balcony view from his room. People roamed, dressed colorfully yet in almost the same attire, dragging children along or clinging to their friends, side stepping other pedestrians and politely nodding. If Jean tried hard enough, maybe he could fool himself into thinking the city was like Trost, the richer areas of the walls where the posh mindlessly roamed in their suits and skirts.

It was almost unnerving how similar the people below felt to the people back home. Jean quickly turned back towards his bed, hands falling to his side as he attempted to shove away the sick feeling in his stomach.

Maybe it was the seasickness again. He collapsed onto his new bed, closing his eyes as the satin sheets warmed around him. 

Sunlight poured from the large floor to ceiling windows that surrounded the dining room of the Tybur manor, the sound of children screaming and yelling echoing through the largely empty room as they chased each other. The manor was never quiet, not since the Tybur children were born, much to their parents' amusement and Fine’s growing irritation. Her annoyance showed as she broke her two brothers up from an attempted fist fight between each other, her scolding taking over silence that followed. 

Armin could vividly remember when she was just as much of a trouble maker. There would be plenty of occasions where the boy would have to scold her and drag her away from trouble, his warnings of their mothers rage falling on deaf ears more often than not. 

“You’re much closer to her age than the rest of us,” Willy would say. “Perhaps that's why she brushes past you with such ease.” 

“Perhaps,” he would echo. 

“Armin!”

Armin startled from his place at the table, looking toward where Fine was struggling on the floor, using her arms to push the twins away from each other. 

“Armin, could you help me, please?” She pleaded.

Armin hid his smile with a duck of his head, excusing himself from the table as he stood up, catching the shared glances of both relief and amusement from the table guests. He walked towards where his younger siblings were playing and pried Alois away from his brothers clawing hands just inches away from his face, carrying him in his arm with ease as the little boy tucked his face between the area of Armin’s neck and shoulder. Fine sighed, taking Bruno into her arms in a similar manner, though visibly struggling compared to Armin as he fussed in her grip. 

“They seem to do it every time people come over.” She huffed, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, irritation clear in her voice. 

“They’re just toddlers, Fine.” He reminded her, “Toddlers who are the same age as each other, and both boys. They’re practicing begging for attention.”

“You’re right, this would’ve never happened if I had gotten another sister instead.” 

“Don’t say that, you love us,” Armin chided, patting the top of the girl's hair comfortingly. “Go on, sit with mother and father. I’ll take care of the kids.” He look a glance at the clock hanging above the double door entrance of the room. “I need to feed them anyway.” 

Fine frowned, shaking her head, looking up at Armin from beneath her bangs. “I’ll come with you. I don’t want to listen to them talk about boring trades while I eat.” 

Armin didn’t try to hide his smile this time, “Don’t let them hear you say that.” He teased, pushing her gently towards the dining table. “Tell them you’ll be with me for the next hour. I’ll meet you in the foyer.” 

Armin had been adopted into the Tybur family years ago, probably a few years after Fine had been born. It was all a blur, he could hardly remember anything that had happened the months following him acquiring the War Hammer Titan, only the wavering of his consciousness and the inability to be aware of what was real and what was not. 

Not that he really felt as though they were his family, minus the children. Willy had been kind enough, as well as his wife, but he couldn’t consider them as parents as much as he could see everyone else would like him to. 

He placed Alois on the couch as the other children clamored on. 

A quick glance around made him aware of only one maid in the foyer, who was adamantly looking down as soon as he’d entered the room, her white armband clashing with the black of her uniform. 

Armin raised his hand, grabbing her attention. “Pardon me, could you fetch the children’s dinner from the kitchen, please?”

She looked startled (perhaps she was new, she didn’t look familiar) but nodded absently, quickly positioning her hands in front of her stomach with a curt bow and scrambling off towards the direction of the kitchen. 

“Armin…” Lucia, the only other girl among the siblings, whined. “I want to play!”

Armin hummed, sitting beside her and her brothers on the couch, carefully adjusting Rico as he attempted to climb across his lap. “You can play after you eat. Your mother would kill me if she realized I’d let you play instead of eat.” 

“Nooo…” Her whining trailed off into earnest sobs, her body bouncing on the couch as the beginning of a tantrum seemed to start at Armin’s refusals to let her play. Armin could barely hold in a tired sigh. 

Really, sometimes he feels like he’s more of their parents than their actual parents are. He notes to himself to talk with Willy about hiring a nanny to aid Armin, he couldn’t let himself to continuously fall back on Fine, she was a child still too after all.

Adamantly ignoring Lucia’s growing wailing and crying, he thanked the maid as she brought in the cart with the children's food. Her eyes flickered between Armin and the children that surrounded him and shifted on her feet.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Armin asked, startling the girl again. 

She quickly shook her head. “N-No, of course not. My apologies, please excuse me.” 

“Ah,” He stood up, “Wait, I didn’t mean to be impolite. It was a genuine question.” 

She looked back at the children before hesitantly starting to speak. “Well, I was wondering if you’d like help in feeding the children. They seem fussy today.” 

Armin strained a smile, “No, I couldn’t trouble you with that. I’m sure you’re already occupied enough with the guests.” 

“Oh.” She seemed to falter. Armin tried not to feel too bad, he had asked her to tell him what she was thinking afterall, but it was too much of a risk. “I understand.” She said, looking down at the floor. She bowed once more before making her way back toward where she was sitting. Armin observed her for a second before turning back to the children fussing around him.

The sound of shoes clicking against the white marble flooring drew Armin’s attention towards where Fine was walking into the room, holding Bruno in her arms, who was less fussy from before, thumb stuck inside his mouth. 

“I’m sorry it took so long, father made me introduce myself to all of them.” She paused, putting Bruno down by his twin, an exasperated expression on her face. “One by one.”

“Connections?” Armin tried to reason, but Fine shook her head, huffing.

“What a joke. I’m too young for that.”

“You’re thirteen. Many high ranking officials' children start around this age.”

“I’m too young.” 

“Maybe he’s being polite.” 

“Well, I didn’t want to be.” 

“Oh, please.” Armin grabbed a bowl filled with soft vegetables and small bits of chicken and rice and beckoned Alois and Bruno towards him, placing the twins by his lap. “Just help me feed them, will you?”

“So polite, Brother.” Fine said, following Armin in his actions and grabbing a bowl with Rico and Lucia by her. “You have a way with your words.”

“You haven’t even seen me in action yet. Don’t act so suave.” 

Willy made his way to the foyer with the guests a little over an hour after Fine and Armin had ushered food into the children's system, who were running around and playing under the supervision of Armin, Fine occasionally joining in on the fun and roughhousing. 

Armin stood up, bowing towards the guests, who politely smiled back as Willy talked with them. 

“Armin,” Reiner stepped towards him from the small crowd, dressed in his formal uniform. He glanced over his shoulder, catching the view of the children. “So this is where you went.”

“Yeah,” Armin looked back with caution, catching his sister’s gaze. She gave him a thumbs up and a smile. He smiled and turned back towards Reiner. “You know how it is.” 

“Quite the babysitter, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes I feel more like a nanny than the eldest child in this family.” He humorlessly joked.

Reiner nodded sympathetically before speaking again. “Are you coming to camp tomorrow? Pieck’s been asking for you. Our deployment is soon. She wants to say bye before we leave.”

Armin hums, mulling. “I did promise her I would visit soon. I most likely will, but I have a few errands run so I’m not sure when I’ll drop by.” 

“I’ll let her know, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” Armin frowned, looking over his friend's face. Reiner’s been different since he came back from Paradis. His shoulders were constantly slumped and his face sagged with stress as if gravity was pulling him down. The man already didn’t take care of himself well before he’d gone off on his mission, but ever since he’d come back Armin feels as though he’s gotten worse, even if he didn’t show it. “Have you been sleeping well?” He off handedly asked, “Your eyebags have been getting worse.” 

“I’m fine,” He dismissed, “You know how it is.” 

“Completely different things we’re saying that for.” Armin placed a comforting hand on Reiner’s arm. “Listen, if its… if this is about Bertholdt—”

“Armin,” Reiner sternly cut him off, “Please.”

“Sorry.” He quickly said, abashed. “All I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t put such a heavy load on yourself. Maybe get a psych evaluation back at camp and talk to a professional, Reiner. It never hurts to be cautious, even if you think it’s fine.”

Reiner, much to Armin’s amusement despite the heavy topic, looked stiffly uncomfortable. As if he wasn’t prepared for someone to care about him in such a manner. 

“Okay,” He conceded, stuffing his hand in his uniform pocket. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“That’s the least I could ask for.” 

Reiner looked over his shoulder watching people slowly pour out of the manor door, Willy standing to the side bidding them a good night.

“I should go.” 

“Have a safe ride home.”

“Right, and good luck putting them to sleep.” Reiner nodded towards the kids, “They look like a handful to reel in.”

“Couldn’t have been worse than Gabi.”

“Oh, definitely.” The two gave each other knowing looks. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Armin.”

“See you. Take care.” Armin bid, taking a step back and turning around as Reiner made his way towards his brother. “Fine, in a couple of minutes come help me put them to bed, please.”

“Of course.”

Armin turned away as Fine began to fuss over the children again, coping and scolding drifting through the room as he waited for Willy to bid the guests goodbye. When the door closed, he stepped forward, catching his father’s attention.

“Father.”

“Armin,” Willy gave him a stiff smile. “Is there something wrong?”

“I… recommend you look over who you hire more carefully. If not for your safety, then for the children.” Armin locked his fingers in front of him. “You get what I’m saying, surely.”

“Hmm,” Willy’s eyes wander around the room discreetly, pausing momentarily at the maid standing at the other end, bowed head. “I understand. Thank you, Armin.”

“Of course,” Armin sighed, nodding. “Goodnight, Father.” He walked away before Willy could respond, knowing it wasn’t worth sitting in the silence just to be dismissed with a wave of a hand. 

It took almost two hours of fussing and cooing towards the children for them to finally fall asleep, the last of the bunch to close their eyes being Rico. Armin shared a victorious (yet gentle—he didn’t want to wake them up) high five with Fine. 

“Ahh, I’m exhausted.” She moaned, hugging herself as they walked through the hallway together. “Do we have training tomorrow?”

“You do. I have a few errands to run for your father. Ah, and Mister Müller asked if I could pick up some books for your next tutoring sessions…”

“Can I come?” She looked at him with round, pleading eyes. Armin tutted, petting her head. 

“Fine, I don’t think you’ll find anything we do tomorrow very interesting. I’m only meeting up with a few high officials.”

“You’re also going to the library! I still want to go, Armin!”

Armin shook his head, sighing. Blood relative or not, she was his sister through and through, he couldn’t help but cave. “Okay, I’ll let Miss Ventura know to let you off training early tomorrow—but if anyone asks, you better not tell them it was me. Last time—“

“I know. I know!” She grinned, stumbling out of Armin’s grasp without letting Armin even finish his sentence as she ran towards her room. “Goodnight, Minnie!”

“Goodnight, Fine. Sleep well.”

“You as well!”

The hallway echoed with the sound of her bedroom door closing. Armin felt his shoulders ease, letting himself finally relax as the exhaustion of the day hit him. He looked down at his wrist watch and sighed. No, he wouldn’t have any time to read today. Unfortunate, but it was becoming more common as the years passed.

He only prayed that sleep would come easy tonight. 

Armin laid in bed, fresh linen sheets surrounding him. Not that he wasn’t tired, in fact he felt as though sleep would consume him readily if he closed his eyes—but he was terrified. 

Sleep always came easy, but it was stopping the fear of closing his eyes that pulled him back. 

It was the image of Lara laying beside him, on the dirt floor path surrounded by extinguishing fire that haunted him that night. The blank stare from her dead body snapping him awake, the moonlight shining through his open curtains, painting the dark wooden floors in white. 

He didn't close his eyes longer than necessary for the rest of the night. 

Jean couldn’t get used to the soft silk-like sheets or the all-too-fluffy pillows (it didn’t seem to flatten no matter how hard Jean hit it). To the point where it was agitating. Extremely agitating.

The nerve of being in enemy territory while not having anything to protect him or the Scouts with had Jean on edge. He could tell the rest of the Scouts were just as anxious, with Sasha not scarfing down her food as quick as she would (yet somehow she seems to be only a few seconds slower), Connie cracking awkwardly timed jokes and Hanji rambling on topics near and far, Jean knew the adjustment period would take a while. For all of them. 

The risk of death somehow felt worse than when they would go against a fifteen meter titan. 

With a huff, he clumsily kicked the blanket off him. 

He knew Levi had warned them off from heading outside without prior knowledge and advised them to rest, but Jean would probably go insane without fresh air—as fresh as it can get in a place that uses bullshit oil twenty-four-seven. The jacket he wore was too thin to combat the night air but by the time the breeze started blowing, Jean was a good block down the road and felt it’d be stupid to go back and risk getting caught for a warmer piece of clothing. He’d dealt with worse—he reasoned—he would be fine. 

He was not fine. 

He’d begun shivering within ten minutes of his walk. In a piss-poor attempt at keeping warm he gripped his coat tighter. 

The railing by the dock was just as cold, if not colder by the harsh breeze that blew threw. Jean shivered but shook the cold off, letting his elbow rest against the cool metal.

The smell of the sea drifted through the air, tinting the air with a whiff of salt. Jean couldn’t help but notice how the port was even more beautiful now than during the day. Although the water wasn't reflecting the beaming sun above, a clear reflection of the moon and street lights gave it a orange-white hue. Ships were still running, both leaving and entering the port, occasional shouts from workers on the dock echoing in the air in muffled noise. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could trick himself into thinking he was back at the port base on Paradis.

“Rather cold out, isn’t it?”

Jean turns to his side, catching the eye of a figure a few feet away from him. Their figure was blocked by the coat they wore, but Jean caught a clear view of their blonde, tied back hair. Most of their color was muted by the orange hue of the street lamps, the blue of their eyes shined brightly. The ocean. Jean belatedly thought to himself, suddenly being brought back to the day he tasted the salt water in his hands. It looked just like the ocean. 

“Yeah,” Jean dragged his eyes away from the pools of blue to eye the person's warm looking knee length coat. “You seem pretty comfortable, though.”

Jean shifted uncomfortably as they eyed him up and down. 

“Yes,” they nodded. “It’s normal to wear a coat like this around this time since it’s normally cold at night in an area like this.” They stated, giving Jean an amused look. “Are you new here?”

“Something like that.” Jean silently hoped he wouldn’t ask where. 

They hummed. “If you plan on staying here for a while, I’d recommend you get a good coat. Marley isn’t normally a cold place, but the seaside cities reach pretty low temperatures. You’ll find that most people here have multiple coats.” They looked over their shoulder, eyeing the street of closing shops and vendors momentarily before turning back towards Jean. “If you’d like, I could show you a place that sells coats. They should still be open.”

“I don’t know if I should trust a stranger I’ve just met,” Jean mulled, “Could be a kidnapping plot for all I know.” 

The person looked startled, blue eyes widening momentarily. “Ah, I guess you’re right.” They gave him a sheepish smile, rubbing their arm up and down in an embarrassed manner. “Sorry, I got ahead of myself.”

“You don’t say…” Jean murmured to himself, fingers twitching, subconsciously wishing he had a cigarette to pull a smoke from. The cloudy, breezy weather was almost too perfect for him to miss enjoying one. A pity. 

“If you’d like, I could still point out which store it is. You’re practically shivering to death, I’d feel sorry if I didn’t.”

Jean sighed. Yeah, you know what? If not just to get this person off his back any other way, maybe he should hear them out. He didn’t really know how long he would be staying, maybe getting an extra coat or two wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t think he has a good enough coat packed to cover the weather either…

“Alright,” Jean conceded. “Point it out to me, o’ savior of mine.”

Chapter Text

The rolling hills were the first thing Armin noticed when he opened his eyes. His fingers let the coolness of the slightly wet grass seep into the warmth of his skin. He rubbed blades of grass between his fingers as he slowly lifted his torso off of the ground. It was Lara he noticed next. She looked younger than he usually saw her. Her long, dark hair in a half up half down style, allowing the wind to blow through the thick strands. She was at the bottom of the hill, sitting with her knees drawn to her chest, her school uniform looking freshly smoothed out, the dark colors vastly contrasting the bright green landscape. 

There was a girl beside her. Her skin was a few shades darker, more olive tan than cool white. She wore the same uniform as Lara, hers looking more crumpled and worn out. Armin didn’t miss the bright white arm band on her left arm, screaming what she was to the country she lived in. Her hair was straight, a dark shade of brown. It was tightly tied back in a braid that was messily done. 

Armin had seen her multiple times. Flashes of memories and phantoms of her haunting the corner of his vision in his earlier childhood. 

Aisha. 

Armin hadn’t realized both him and Lara had spoken until Aisha turned towards the girl. 

“What is it?” Her accent was thick, but understandable to anyone who had an understanding of English, but it was obvious if you couldn’t tell from the tan tone of her skin and the deep darkness of her wavy hair, that the girl had come from the Middle Eastern Union. Lara smiled weakly. 

“Nothing. The scenery is quite nice, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, I guess.” She hesitantly agreed, “There isn’t much of a difference from when we came here last time.” 

“The air is different.”

“The air?” Aisha laughed, the sound echoing through the empty field. “I think you have gone mad, Lara. What does air tell to a person?”

“It is, Aisha,” Lara calmly said, her head turning enough for Armin to catch her side profile. She looked intently at Aisha. “I thought you would notice. Surely it’s different from the air of your home.” 

“You think I’d remember?”

”It can’t be that hard… you’re surrounded by your people all the time. Surely there are reminders of some kind.” 

There was a brief silence before Aisha huffed, the sound coming out as agitation more than amusement at Lara. She stood up, patting and swiping the grass off of her clothes. “I’m going back home.” 

“You can’t—”

“I can.” Aisha began to walk down the hill. “I assure you I can.”

Lara braced herself to get up, frowning. “I can ask my brother to—”

Aisha cuts her off again, turning around for Armin to see her furrowed brow and frown. “I don’t want your help, or your brothers. I’ll make it back home before curfew, it’s okay, Lara. I don’t need you to worry about me all the time.” She took a deep breath, Lara stayed silent. “Goodnight, thank you for bringing me here again.” 

Armin and Lara watched as she walked off. He hadn’t realized how intently he’d been watching until the sound of rustling brushed his ears.

Lara, who looked his age now, sat beside him. Her hair was fully tied back and the school uniform was gone now, replaced by the classic black and white the Tybur family adorned. 

“Armin,” She didn’t turn towards him, only her eyes moving towards the corner to glance at him giving Armin any indication that she was indeed talking to him, expecting a conversation to come out of this memory—no, dream. “I used to wonder why she had always gotten upset with me. No matter how careful I was with my words, something always set her off. Why do you think that is?”

Armin swallowed thickly, looking away from his predecessor next to him to Aisha who was much farther away now, clutching her uniform jacket as a sudden breeze blew over. The younger Lara stood up, taking a few seconds to pat off the grass that had stuck to her skirt, before making her way to catch up with Aisha. 

“Ignorance.” Armin started. “The ignorance of how you were raised and… and how you were taught makes you oblivious to the hurt you give to your friend.” He rubs the sweat on his palm on the shirt of his nightwear. “The way you speak to her and about her, it hurts her. You treat her like she’s some foreign… thing. Unfamiliar to her surroundings, even if she isn’t.” Armin hesitated. “The Middle Eastern Union is rich with places like these as well. To assume she was unfamiliar with a sight like this is…”

“Yes.” Lara agreed easily. “I know. She told me a bit later on. I felt so ashamed I apologized profusely, though she laughed it off. I could tell she was upset but I think she also knew I was… genuine in my apologies.”

Younger Lara reached Aisha, who had stood still patiently waiting, and took her arm, hooking it with hers before beginning to walk off together, Lara talking between the two first. Aisha hesitantly answered and it only took a few seconds before the conversation seemingly had its balance, the two girls smiling at each other. 

“She was so bright.” Lara whispered, her words almost disappearing in the wind. “You remind me of her.” Armin turns towards Lara, only to suck in a hitched breath as he startled back. Her dress was stained in red and it was ripped at the hem, her sleeve on one of her arms almost completely ripped off, yet her skin was untouched. “I pray you have a better fate than her, Mister Arlert.”

The sound of screams began to echo through the hills, begging pleas mixed in a language Armin couldn’t understand and english being the last things he heard before a loud bang startled him awake. 

“Mister Tybur, little Fine is almost done with training, I suggest you head to the dining hall soon to meet her.” 

Armin took in a deep, labored breath before clearing his throat, rubbing the bleariness out of his eyes. “Alright, thank you.”

A small ‘Of course’ was heard muffled through his bedroom door, the sound of clicking footsteps followed and slowly drifted away. Armin yawned and let his head fall limp into his hands, a shiver involuntarily spreading throughout his body as the sound of Aisha’s screams echoed in his head. 

He refused to look in the mirror as he got ready, only hopelessly praying that he looked collected enough to where Willy wouldn’t question him. Brushing the stray strands of blonde hair behind his ear that had fallen out after Armin had tied it back into a quick ponytail, Armin made his way downstairs, smoothing out his waistcoat before opening the dining room door. 

Willy was already seated at his spot at the end of the table, reading the newspaper the delivery boy had most likely dropped by. He looked up, eyeing Armin as he sat down. “Didn’t sleep well again?”

Armin looked up, meeting Willy’s gaze. He smiled tightly. “Yes, it is usually how it goes.”

Willy hummed, letting the silence afterward claim the dining room in false security before speaking again. “Lara would talk about it with me sometimes—the nightmares, I mean,” Willy reminisced, poking his fork at the cut sausage on his plate. “The first few years are never easy.” He looked up, “But you’re nearing nine years. Surely you’re used to it now?”

Armin paused. “Father…”

“I never did know if Lara got over hers.” Armin looked down, avoiding Willy’s souring gaze. “A shame, isn’t it?” He said.

Armin thanks the maid as she sets his plate of breakfast down in front of him. It took a few seconds of mindlessly looking at the plate in front of him for Armin to speak up. 

“I don’t think they ever truly go away, Father.”

“Perhaps not.” Willy agreed. “It had only been four years since she got it when she died. Perhaps they will never get better.” He never got to find out. 

The sound of the dining room door echoed, footsteps clicking forward. “Father?” Fine walked into the dining room, taking a seat next to Willy with a tired smile. She paused, looking between Armin and Willy, wet hair dampening the fabric of her dress slightly. Her brows furrowed in confusion, perhaps at the somber air. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, dear.” Willy smiled, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Yes, I had it before training.”

“How did it go?” Armin asked. “You didn’t strain anything did you? Miss Ventura made sure you stretched before and after?” 

Fine sighed, a flick of annoyance in her eyes that Armin knew was because of the mention of training rather than his prodding and worrying. “I get a leg cramp once in a market and you baby me for it for the rest of my life.” She joked.

“Fine, as much as I adore you, your pain tolerance is horrible. You spent a whole twenty minutes crying while rubbing your leg. You can’t blame me.”

“I concede! I concede. You’ve made your point.” Fine turned towards Willy, who had been watching Armin and Fine’s interaction with a glint of something Armin couldn’t pinpoint. “Father, I’ll have to excuse myself. I need to start getting ready.”

“Ready?” Willy questioned, frown making way to his face. “Ready for what?”

“Fine wanted to join me while I run some errands.” Armin explained, “She’s been in the house for a while now, it’ll be good for her to get some fresh air again.”

“Ah, I see.” He places a hand on Fine’s back. “Dress warm, I heard it’ll be rather cold out.” 

“Yes, father.” Fine quickly said. She gets up from her chair and walks out the dining room, gently closing the door behind her. 

“You need to stop getting her out of training so often.” Willy said. 

Armin shakes his head. “I haven’t been. She always catches up later in the day.”

“Very well.” He sounded doubtful.  Armin didn’t bother reassuring him. 

Putting his silverware down, Armin stands up from his seat, excusing himself with a small bow of his head. He meets Fine in the foyer, adjusting her sun hat as she rocks back and forth on her heel. She turned around and met his eyes, smiling brightly.

“Where are we going first?”

“The library.” He affectionately combed out a knot in her hair. “Your tutor’s asked for me to get new reading material for you. He says you’re behind, Fine.” He admonishes.

She pouts, "Algebra is far easier than reading a book about a woman driven mad by yellow wallpaper of all things.”

Armin sighs, rolling his eyes. “It isn’t that bad.” He quickly thanked the doorman, beginning to walk down the stairs of the estate, Fine following behind him just a hair away. “If you looked more into it, you would realize it’s not just because of the yellow walls.” 

“Don’t tell me it was hysteria. I highly doubt her husband was actually right. Physician or not.”

“Not hysteria.” Armin confirms, “Depression. Postpartum specifically.” 

Fine frowned, stopping behind Armin as he opened the carriage door. “What is postpartum?”

Armin paused, realizing that Fine’s mother probably hasn’t started any talk of a woman's health (mental and physical). She can’t necessarily blame her, it was still taboo to talk about things like that, even to your own daughter. “I’ll explain to you in the carriage, and maybe, if I can find one, I’ll get a book for you on women’s mental health that way you can understand better if you’re more interested. Okay?”

Fine climbed in and sat down, leaving enough room for Armin to take a seat beside her. She smiled, a familiar look of intrigue and curiosity in her gaze as she nodded. “Okay, but the books come only if I’m more interested. I already have too much reading material given by my tutors.”

Armin laughed, “Okay, I understand.” 

Jean found it excruciatingly compact inside the bookstore. His back was practically pressed against Eren’s as they maneuvered through aisles and shelves of books, and he could feel sweat running down his back through his shirt. 

Hanji had sent a few of the Scouts off to search for books on Marley and—if they were lucky enough—Paradis. In terms of luck, they’d gotten good enough material for Paradis. Their findings were good. Too good. To the point where they’ve had to start figuring out what books to take. Sure, they had found a lot of books to take back, but they couldn’t just take a whole shelf and walk off like nothing.

Jean sighed, flipping through the endless, smoothed out pages of the book in his hand, carefully reading the back and first few pages to see if it would be of any significance. 

“Jeez, this sucks.” Connie murmured beside him, placing back a book that Jean had seen him barely even take a glance at. “Why do they get to stay at the estate but we have to do the dirty work?”

“It’ll be their turn next,” Jean reminded, “They aren’t completely off the hook.”

“But why did it have to be us first?” He whined. 

“Because Eren couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.” Jean mumbled beneath his breath, eyes rolling at the recollection of Eren practically jumping off of the couch to volunteer, Mikasa readily agreeing along. 

“Don’t start.” He heard Eren hiss from behind him.

“What? Afraid to throw a couple of words at me ti–”

“Jean.” Mikasa interrupted, giving the boy a stern look from down the aisle. “Not here.”

Jean huffed.

The group searched for a few more minutes before Eren seemed to concede. 

“Let’s head back, I think we have enough.”

“You sure?” Connie asked, shifting his arm to balance the stack of books in his arms. “We’ve barely searched half of the section.”

“We can always inform the others how far we made it and they can pick up from there.” Mikasa said, “But I agree, we should head back. We’ve already gotten a lot of material.” 

Jean eyed the shelf he was almost done searching before looking back toward the group. “You guys can start checking out the books, I’ll finish up this shelf. Don’t wanna miss any hidden gems or what not.”

“Alright,” Eren nodded, “Meet us at the desk when you’re done. Make it quick though.”

Jean shook him off, “Yeah, yeah. We’ll meet there. Just go.” 

The three of them walked off. Jean turned toward the shelf, grunting as he bent down while adjusting the smaller pile of books in his arms. He tipped his head over to get a better view of the printed titles on the spine of the books that lined the shelf, though he could barely pull them out if he found a title that seemed promising enough. Jean resisted the urge to just drop the books on the ground unceremoniously, the agitation in his stomach bubbling with every minute that ticked by. 

“Fair warning, but I think if you bend any more the books are going to tip over.”

Jean looked up, meeting familiar blue eyes looking down at him from the spot beside him, a smile ghosting their lip in what seemed like interest. A goldish-brown brow curled up as their gaze went downward, to Jean’s torso, expectantly. “Oh,” He looked down at his arms and realized that, true to the person's word, the books were beginning to tip over, the top of the stack close to completely slipping off. “Shit!” 

“Here, let me help.” 

Nearly half of the weight was lifted off of his arms as the person from the night before lifted practically half the stack off of his hands. Jean let out an involuntary sigh of relief. A person was easy to lift—hell, even the weight of ODM gear and boxes of gear and rations were a breeze to take care of and lift, but it seemed like a pile of books could wear even the strongest of soldiers down. 

“Thanks, ha…” Jean awkwardly stumbled over his words, looking over at them.

“What are you doing carrying so many books?” They looked down at their arm, “Not to be nosey, but it’s not everyday I see people holding stacks of books on history. Normally it’s fiction.” 

“Ah, uhm,” Quick, quick. Find an excuse! “Research..?”

“You sound unsure.” They pointed out, but to Jean’s relief, didn’t stay on the point for long. They turned toward the shelf of books, eyes scanning the shelves. “What part of Marley history are you looking for?”

“Eldian and Marleyan conflict.” The words had slipped out before he could find a better way to put it. “My.. ah—my professor decided to give me a research paper on it. Trust me, it’s not by choice.” 

“Shame,” Jean heard them say, “The history is quite interesting. I think you’ll find it interesting—err,” They cleared their throat. “Not interesting in the entertainment type of way, I mean in the informative type. Ah,” They looked over at Jean, “I could help you pick out the most relevant ones in your pile. I chose history as my concentration for a reason.”

“Concentration?”

“Does your university not have concentrations?” They asked mildly, crouching down and balancing the stack of books on their knees. Jean watched as their hands quickly moved to observe the title and spine of the books as they sorted through.

Jean blinked, remembering he had been asked a question. “Uhm,” he looked down at his own hand before crouching down, letting his knee fall to the ground for balance. “No… not exactly. It’s a military school, of sorts? They teach us a little bit of everything.”

“A military school?” They looked up, pausing momentarily. “No military school from here, right? If it were you’d probably know what you’re looking for by now.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“So then where is your school?”

“Asking where I’m from before even knowing my name? Bold, aren’t you?”

“It is impolite isn’t it? Sorry.” They seemed sheepish, a shy smile shadowing their face, eyes—blue, sapphire like today—straying sideways. Hesitantly, a pale hand inched forward until it was in front of Jean. “Armin.” They—he, god they were a he, Jean wanted to bury himself under the ground at the realization—said. 

Jean took his hand, shaking it firmly, letting a small smile come over his face. “Jean. A pleasure.”

“Likewise.” Armin dropped his hand, letting it rest on the last book left of his lap. He took it into his hands and held it out. Jean took it, looking down at it before looking back up, quirking a brow questionably. “Start with that one.” He said, “It’s my sister's favorite. We probably have at least five copies of it at home. It’s a diary written by an Eldian throughout the Eldian and Marleyan conflict. Though, the copies in public libraries tend to be heavily censored.”

“Censored?”

“Marley tends to be strict on publications about the conflict, so many records tend to be censored or even banned.” Armin explained. “Of course, that doesn’t mean their uncensored copies don’t exist—but they’re hard to come by.”

Jean tapped his finger against the hard cover. “Do you… know anywhere I could find any uncensored copies?”

Armin hummed, blinking a couple of times as his eyes wandered again. “Well… unfortunately no.”

Jean should’ve expected. He held back the urge to let out a defeated groan. Nothing comes as easy as it seems. 

“However,” Armin began to pick up a few of the books from the pile on the floor farthest from Jean, placing them back on the shelf methodically. “I do have a few I could give you.”

“You’re willing?” Jean asked, surprised. “To a person you’ve only known for a day?”

“I don’t have many opportunities to talk about topics like these without getting looked at the wrong way.” Armin replied. “Maybe I’m a bit excited. It's not like I mind either. I have multiple  duplicates. You could say it’s a hobby of mine to collect them? Losing a couple books couldn’t hurt. My shelf is begging for it.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m telling you I’m not. Trust me, I’ll happily hand them over.”

“Jean.”

Jean turned around. Mikasa stood on the other side of the aisle. She wasn’t looking at Jean, her gaze steady over Jean’s shoulder, eyeing Armin before returning his gaze towards Jean.

“We need to go. You’re the last one to check out.”

Jean stood up, “Right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mikasa nodded, wordlessly turning around back towards the front. 

“A classmate?” Jean heard Armin ask.

Jean rubbed the stubble on his chin, “Something like that…”

“Hm.” Armin stood up. “Well, I could help you bring these to the front.” He lifted the significantly smaller stack of books that now sat comfortably in his arms. “But unfortunately I think I’ve left my sister alone for too long. She’ll come looking for me any minute.” Armin eyed Jean, “You don’t seem like you’d struggle much carrying these.”

“I won’t,” Jean reassured, taking the stack from Armin’s arms with ease. “Thank you, by the way. I really appreciate your help. I probably would have been stuck reading a whole bunch of useless stuff before I found anything worthwhile.”

“I’m glad to be of help. Ah, when would you like to meet again?”

Jean blinked until he realized what Armin meant. “For the books? Maybe… next week, same day, around noon. Here.”

“Here?”

“It’d be easier for me.”

“Alright,” Armin easily agreed. “Good luck with your paper, Jean. I'll see you next week.”

“See you.” Jean said, smiling politely. He made his way towards the front, spotting the rest standing outside the door, conversing. Everyone but Mikasa. 

Mikasa stood by the entrance, arms casually locked behind her back as she observed the rest outside until Jean got close enough for her to notice.

“You took your time.” She casually remarked, standing beside Jean as he handed over the books to the lady behind the desk, who stamped each book he handed over while recording each one in a little notepad beside her. 

“Yeah, the guy by me helped me pick out the books I needed out of my pile. It took a minute.”

“Hm,” She tapped her foot slowly, “Did you get his name?” 

Jean nodded. “Yeah… he said it was Armin.”

“Armin…”

Jean glanced over, “Do I need to be concerned?”

“No,” She said, her foot stopping its rhythmic movement, “No. He just… seems oddly familiar.”

Jean hummed, accepting the bag full of the books the lady behind the desk gave him with a polite, strained smile. 

Familiar, huh?

“There you are.” Fine approached Armin from her place by the fantasy section, two books pulled closely to her chest. “I look away for five minutes and you suddenly disappear!”

“I’m sorry,” Armin said, “I bumped into an acquaintance." 

“Do I know them? One of fathers friend?” 

“Thankfully, no.”

Fine grinned. “Father would have your head if he heard that.”

“Please, as if you don’t say the same exact thing.”

“Moving on!” Fine took the books into her hand and showed them off, “I’m ready to go. How about you?”

Armin had nearly forgotten. “Ah, hold on. Give me a minute and then we can head off, alright?”

“Armin!” Fine practically whined, “I’ve been waiting for nearly—” she takes a spare glance at her wrist watch before looking at Armin, much to his amusement, with childlike frustration. “—fifteen minutes!”

Armin hummed, gently taking her arm into his grip, dragging her alongside him as he made his way towards the mathematics and sciences section. “I still have the books I promised Müller and about what we were talking about earlier.” 

“Books-smooks.” Fine spat under her breath, making Armin chuckle. 

“You requested them, Fine.” He reminded.

“The books that I like! Not boring books on mathematics…”

“You only go over your mathematics textbooks two hours every other day, it really isn’t that bad.”

“Horrible. It’s so horrible. You don’t understand.”

Armin sighed, letting go of her arm and walking towards the algebra shelf, picking up the books Müller had listened off a few days ago as Fine quietly whined and complained behind him. 

By the time they walked out, Fine had stopped her whining, instead flicking through the pages of her new books with keen interest. Armin looked down at her with a fond smile. 

Fine was rather recluse as a child, she still is actually. Armin can’t remember a time she’d brought over a friend who hadn’t been a child of Willy’s diplomatic friends. Armin assumed it’s because of him, having pushed his habits as a child onto her as they grew up together. Fine had clung to the fabric of his pants since the moment they’d met when she was only around six, Armin having just turned ten by then and deemed well enough by the Tyburs to be introduced to the rest of the family. 

He mulled over the countless nights when she was a child where they would share a night lamp, curled together on the floor against the frame of her bed with a book she had picked out. 

Armin sighed. As horrible as he felt to have influenced Fine so much to a point where she felt like a carbon copy of him, he couldn’t help but be glad he had something alike with a person in such a lonely family. 

“Armin,” Fine began, pulling Armin out of his reminiscing with a gentle nudge to his rib by her elbow, “Do you think Pieck would tell me about her visit to Paradis?”

He felt himself stiffen, his steps slowing at Fine’s question. 

“No,” Armin answered honestly, ignoring the strain in his voice. “I don’t think she would. It’s better if you don’t ask at all. Understand?”

Fine frowned, looking as though she wanted to protest, and nodded. 

“Good.” He breathed out. He patted her back encouragingly as they approached the front gate entrance. 

“ID, sir.” The guard at the front monotonously asked. 

Armin handed over his ID, taking it back after the guard took a glance at it and began to signal for the gate to open. Fine was walking through before the doors had fully opened, cheering as Pieck, balancing against her crutch in a practiced manner, happily waved her vacant hand and laughed when Fine ran into her. 

“Fine,” Armin scolded, “Be careful.”

“It’s alright.” Pieck dismissed. She smiled at Armin warmly, eyes scrunched with wrinkles in the corner. “It’s been so long since I last saw you, Armin.”

“Likewise,” He observed the heaviness under her eyes. “You seem like you’re in a worse state than Reiner.”

Pieck sighed, shaking her head. “They’ve been running us dry. You know how it is, especially with the war front with the MEU growing harsher.”

“Well aware,” Armin agreed, “I almost feel guilty for being relieved I don’t have to go.”

“For right now.” Porco made his way toward the three, hand rubbing the back of his neck, letting the red armband stand out against the sunlight. “You’re on standby, you know.”

“Again, I’m well aware.”

“I think he’ll be okay,” Fine piqued, looking between the three Titan shifters. “Father says he won’t be needed for months.”

“Whatever Tybur says, it goes, I guess.” Porco huffed. Armin could only look at Pieck hopelessly. 

“Did you do some shopping, Fine?” Pieck asked indulgingly, pointing down at the cloth bag filled with the books they had gotten from the library. Fine smiled brightly, “Oh, yes! Armin needed to get some textbooks for my studies and I picked out some new books while he was at it. I got one for Gabi as well, she’d mentioned she wanted to read it— ah, speaking of…” Fine looked around, “Where are the cadets?”

“They should be inside their barracks.” Pieck responded, “Gabi’s been waiting for you. She was pretty stoked when she heard you were visiting today. Perhaps that’s why, hm?”

Fine began to quickly walk away, muttering about not wanting to make the girl angry by being later than she expected. 

The three shared amused glances.

“Close ones, aren’t they?” 

Pieck hummed, leaning against her crutch. “Reminds me of how we were back when.”

“It wasn’t that long ago.” Armin reminded. “Seven years at best.”

“Damn long time considering just how long we’re alive for.” Porco huffed as they began to make their way through the base. 

“Ah, don’t remind me.” She said, “I can already feel my body breaking down.”

“Or maybe it’s ‘cause you’re in that stupid position all day.”

“Don’t bully what’s useful to you, Porco.”

“it’s been a while since you’ve had to use your crutch, and now you’re back to mimicking your titan form?” Armin asked.

Pieck’s eyes scrunched in amusement, “It’s what’s comfortable. I’ll need to go back soon enough, they’re deploying me to the frontlines.”

“Already?” Armin frowned, “you only just got back.”

“Work follows.” Porco sighed, “They’re thinking about sending the cadets too. Can you believe it?”

“Well, when we were cadets the MEU conflict wasn’t exactly the thing it is now. The worst we went through was having to sit through peace negotiations with Hizuru.” Porco shifted on his feet, easing against the heels of his foot.

Armin looked around, ignoring Pieck and Porco’s conversation. “Where is Reiner?” 

Porco scoffed, “Probably going through another psychosis episode or whatever. You know, he hasn’t exactly been the same since he came back.”

“I’m aware.” Armin mumbled. “Hey, actually,” He knew he should probably be more cautious in his way of bringing up the matter, but it’d been pulling at him since he got wind of Reiner’s return and self isolation afterwards. “Does… Reiner talk about Paradis?”

“Hmm,” Pieck stops at a bench by the training grounds, plopping down unceremoniously, letting her crutch rest by her. “Well, I’ve heard Gabi talk about it with him in passing but I don’t think he’s really discussed it with anyone outside of his family and who he’s needed to talk about it with.” She sighed. “Then again, I don’t think anyone has really asked.”

“I see…”

“What?” Porco took a seat by Pieck, leaning down and letting his elbows rest limp against his knees. “Thinking about asking him?”

“I’ve been caught.”

“Seriously,” Porco huffed, "What is your obsession with those devils.”

“It’s not an obsession.” Armin fought. “It’s… curiosity. You know, we’re all well aware of our history with them, but we don’t know much outside of that.”

“It’s for the better.” A gruff voice interrupted. Armin felt himself straighten up, immediately turning around, the sound of Porco and Pieck scrambling to get up causing a ruckus behind him. Armin saluted, meeting General Magath’s piercing, hooded gaze. “Armin,” he greeted, “it’s been a while.”

“General,” Armin ducked his head, “I’m sorry for my absence, Mister Tybur—”

“Has been keeping you busy, I’m aware.” 

“Thank you for your understanding.” 

“Pieck, Porco.”

“General.” Armin heard them both say. 

“You’re needed in the central meeting room. They’d like to discuss your involvement in the conflict.”

“Yes, sir!”

Magath looked back towards Armin, “I recommend you get your sister and begin heading back. Willy won’t be happy if you keep Fine after dark.”

“Of course,” Armin easily agreed. “I will do so.”

“Very well,” Magath nodded, looking between the three before turning on his heels, walking towards the direction of the central building. 

“Is it just me or does he always come out of nowhere.” Armin heard Porco mumble, causing him and Pieck to snicker. 

“Well, it looks like duty calls.” Armin smiled, “Let me know when you’re about to leave. I’ll try to visit.”

Pieck smiled, spreading her arm out, “Will do.” Armin stepped into her embrace, holding her tightly.

“Try to stay safe you two.”

“As best as we can.” Porco nodded, giving a rare lift to the corner of his lip.

Armin bid the two goodbye before heading off to the cadet barracks for the warrior units, picking up Fine, practically pulling her away from the rowdy group of kids. It was exhausting, no matter how much Pieck related the group of them to the cadets now Armin can’t remember being that rambunctious. 

By the time the two had arrived back at the estate, it was already well past noon, the stars shining brightly as they walked up the steps to the front door.

Ana Tybur stood at the door, smiling and fondly greeting Fine as Armin made his way inside with a curt nod to her as a greeting. As the mother-daughter duo stepped into the house Armin turned towards Ana, the bag filled with Fine’s tutoring textbooks in his outstretched hand. 

“The Book Müller requested. Would you like to look them over before you deliver them?”

“Ah, no need. You’ve been doing this long enough for me to trust both of your judgements.”

“Father’s letters from the officials I met with are in the bag as well, please deliver them to him before you hand the books over.” Ana nodded, taking the bag from Armin’s hand and holding it to her side as Armin placed his hand on Fine’s back, grabbing her attention momentarily. “Fine, I’m going back to my room, alright? If you need me I’ll be there.”

“Alright, Armin. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Armin nodded, bidding the pair bye as he walked back upstairs to his room. It was only when he was in the middle of pulling off his dress shirt did he remember the conversation he’d had with the man at the library. Ah, what was his name? Something French… something…

Jean.

The books. He’d have to carefully pick them out from his personal bookshelf in the other part of his room, make sure they weren’t the ones he’d annotated. God forbid somebody got their hands on them, Armin made sure they stayed out of anyone’s eyes, even Fine’s. 

Sighing as ease finally crept into his body, he let the warmth of the cotton of his shirt soothe his aching muscles. The headache he’d been pointedly ignoring ever since he stepped out had him doubling over, head resting in the palm of his hand as he breathed through his teeth. 

“Exhausting, is it?”

Startled, Armin looked up, facing the mirror on the other side of the room that sat on his dressing table. He forced himself to breathe normally, not letting the panic that would usually settle in take him away. Lara didn’t smile, her reflection in the mirror that replaced where he was sitting still, a blank unreadable expression on her face.

“It never goes away.” He shakily responded, sitting down on his bed, letting the mattress lull him. “I don’t know how you did it. Never letting it show.”

“The months of not transforming were as torturous as the nonstop weeks of doing so.” Lara said, “Most of our peers don’t realize it with the constant use of who they are.”

“It’s like being trapped in your own skin. An animal trapped in a cage.”

“We are.” Lara didn’t try to comfort him. The silenced rested until Lara let out a deep breath. “Rest. Knowing my brother he will not let you do so comfortably after reading the letters you have delivered from his allies. Take advantage of what you’re given while you have it.”

“Will you let me sleep peacefully tonight?” It was a fruitless question to ask, especially when he knew the answer to it. Lara’s unchanged expression answered it wordlessly, it took a blink for her reflection to be replaced by his.

He doesn’t know when he fell asleep. He only knew that dawn had arrived when it was Willy who came knocking at his bedroom door.