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Chapter Text

"Sofia."

The name whispers over and around my ears as I ascend towards consciousness. Someone has started a fire in the small brick fireplace; its smoke wreathes across the tip of my nose. Beside me, my youngest daughter breathes in a quiet cadence, fast asleep. My hand is buried in her tangle of curly dark hair.

"Sofia."

My name again. I flutter my eyes open at last, filling my lungs with a yawn full of warm, smoky air. Erwin stands above me, and his workworn palm caresses my cheek with all the tenderness of a falling petal.

"Are you awake now, love?"

"Ja." I sit up, careful not to wake my slumbering daughter, and shimmy out from beneath my quilt. "Is it that time already?"

"I've put the water kettle on to boil for tea. It'll be dawn in a few hours, so we should get started."

"Do you want my help hitching the oxen?" I ask him. "I should collect the eggs before we leave so your father can make the children breakfast."

Erwin smiles and backs away from me as I pull on a pair of workboots and slip a work smock on over my head. I hold out my hand for the apron that is slung over the back of the chair behind him, and he hands it to me without having to ask what I'm reaching for.

"Yes, I could use your help with the oxen," he says, watching me tie the old apron around my waist. "I still have to pull the plow out, though, so you can go collect the eggs while I do that."

In the dying moonlight that cascades in through the wavy windowpane, he looks older than his thirty-four years. The silver light paints streaks of grey through his fair hair and deepens the hollows beneath his cheekbones. Nothing can dim the strong light in his blue eyes, though; they glint at me through the grey, early morning shadows, as bright as they were the night we first met. Eyes that have seen far greater things than I have in this life alone. It's almost as if the things they have seen belong not to this world but to another - one more terrible than I can imagine.

I feel the urge to kiss him quickly, before I leave to begin the everyday chores that consume so much of my normal life. These moments always don't seem quite real; the minutes when the day begins in darkness, when nobody in the world is awake except for me and him.

I step up on tiptoe to brush my lips against his. Yes, married for five years, almost six, and the passion has not faded. Warmth blooms in a deep part of my belly as his hand presses against the small of my back and pushes me flush against him. The warmth reminds me that I'm still alive, and a sharp pain catches me over my right temple.

"Are you alright?" Erwin asks in concern as I pull away from his embrace.

I pass my cold fingers over my forehead. "My head just hurt again," I mutter. "But it's fine now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Don't worry so much," I say. I smile at him and run my fingers through his fine hair. "It was only for a moment."

He leans down and kisses me again, his lips lingering over mine for longer this time. "I should get that plow out," he sighs at last.

"The eggs," I remind myself.

We pull apart, and I reach for the cane basket sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. Erwin holds the door open for me, and we step out into the crisp morning air. Immediately, I wish I had grabbed my cardigan, but I figure I can handle the chilly air. Haven't I been a farmer's wife for five years now? It takes more than an early spring breeze to kill me.

I stoop to enter the henhouse, and a cacophony of clucking greets me as I duck inside. Our ten chickens stare at me from their wall of nests, beady black eyes shining in the faint moonlight. The rooster crows half-heartedly from his little hut outside of the henhouse, jealous that I can go inside and he cannot.

I reach beneath the hens in search of their eggs and feel the warm roundness of my prize. Each nest contains exactly one egg, except for the last one, home to our oldest hen. I frown to myself in concern; is she ill, or simply too old to lay anymore? I'll have to keep an eye on her.

I wrap the eggs in an old handkerchief to protect them and place the little package in my basket. The delicate embroidery of my old initials dances on the corner of the handkerchief: SA. I grin to myself; what an ancient relic!

I dash inside the house again for a moment to place the basket of eggs on the kitchen table, where Erwin's father will hopefully see them and use them to make breakfast for the children. I check on each of my children, also, while I'm in there. The oldest, Asha, sleeps soundly on her cot, and my younger daughter, Lisbeth, is still right where I left her on me and Erwin's bed. Our little son, Miche, slumbers on in his bassinet at the foot of the bed, his round cheeks quivering in the grips of some sort of dream. Warmth pools in my belly again as I watch them all, me and Erwin's children, living pieces of our own flesh and blood. I smooth my son's curly dark hair off of his soft forehead before leaving them to sleep on in peace.

In the next room, separated from the main room and our bedroom by a heavy canvas curtain, I hear Erwin's father begin to stir. "Sofia, my dear, is that you?" he calls softly. "Erwin is up and out already, I presume?"

"Yes, Father," I say, peeking my head into his bedroom. "Do you need anything?"

He waves his hand from beneath his pile of quilts. "No, no. Just checking in, that's all."

"I left this morning's eggs on the table for you, if you would make breakfast for the children. I'm going to help Erwin in the fields this morning."

"Of course, of course. I'll just get a few more hours of sleep and then I'm sure Asha will be in here before long begging to be fed."

I smile. "Yes, you're probably right."

I dash back outside again with a whispered call of thanks over my shoulder. Erwin stands next to the barn, the hefty plow already dragged out and waiting for the oxen. He wipes his brow with the back of his forearm and frowns at the sharp piece of equipment.

"Heavy," he pants.

"I could have helped you, you know," I say.

"I wouldn't want you to cut yourself on the plow blades."

"Ach, mein Gott." I roll my eyes. "I am not an idiot."

"I know. Which is why I need your help with the oxen," he says. "Can you lead them out so I can hitch them up?"

I nod and step into the barn. The two oxen stare at me balefully, chewing their cud next to the dairy cow and the two horses. The sweet aroma of hay and warm animal wafts into my nostrils, and I suck in a deep, comforting breath of the beautiful scent. I select a rope from the wall and loop it around the first ox's neck, murmuring soothing sounds as I do so. The ox follows me out of the barn without complaint, each step a heavy plod on the straw-strewn floor of the barn. I hardly have to pull on the rope as I lead the ox out to where Erwin is waiting with the plow.

"There you go," I comfort the ox. I stroke its down-soft ears while Erwin slips the harness over its head and tightens it to fit. Then, I slip the rope off of its neck and take a step back. The ox watches me, slightly annoyed by its new burden, still chewing its cud.

"One down, one to go," Erwin says with a pat on the ox's head. "Can you bring out the next one?"

"Of course," I reply, and before long the other ox is hitched to the plow as well.

I grab a large, sturdy basket from inside the barn and strap it to my back. I lead the way to the first section of fields that we have to plow today, and Erwin follows with the oxen and plow. The moon is setting; to the east, the first rays of sunlight have begun to peek over the edge of the horizon. Above, the stars dim slowly into nothingness, their light eclipsed by the radiance of the rising sun.

I stoop to pick up larger rocks that would threaten to break the plow as Erwin breaks up the soil in the rows I've cleared. The soft dirt is cool beneath my fingers, the rocks cold and weighty in my palm. I hear Erwin urging the oxen onward behind me. We make a good team, him and I. By the time the sun is fully above the horizon, bathing the earth with hazy pink light, we have made it down the full length of the field and back again. My stomach grumbles.

"Hungry?" Erwin asks, leaning against the plow. Streaks of dirt cover his forehead and cheeks, and his shirt is soaked with sweat.

"Famished!" I dump my basket of rocks and pull a handkerchief from the pocket of my apron. "Here," I murmur, and I dab at his brow. He sighs in content.

"Let me do the same for you," he replies with a smile. He pulls out a checkered kerchief from his pants pocket and reaches to mop off my own forehead.

"Ach! You better not have sneezed in that already," I warn as he wipes the dirt from my face, but I laugh nonetheless at the tickling sensation of the rough fabric.

"I can't make any promises. Hold still!"

I wriggle away from him and peck him on the cheek. "Thanks for cleaning me up, husband," I say wryly.

"Thank you for wiping the sweat from my brow, dearest wife." He grins. "Let's head inside. Maybe Father has already made breakfast."

We head back into the house, where Erwin's father stands over the stove, stirring a mixture of eggs in a cast-iron skillet. The children are all awake by now, clamoring to be fed, and little Miche sucks on a bottle of cow's milk and watches with large brown eyes as Erwin and I step into the kitchen.

"Mama! Can I have some bread?" Asha hops over to me and grabs my leg at once. "Grandpa is taking too long!"

"That's not very nice. Grandpa's making breakfast just for you," I tell her.

"Can we have bread with the eggs?" Listbeth asks sweetly.

I nod. "That would be okay."

"The eggs are done now, at any rate," my father-in-law says. He scoops the eggs from the skillet to a plate and places the plate on the table. "Dig in, everybody!"

"I'll cut the bread for you, Bethy. Do you want a piece, Asha?" Erwin asks.

She nods, curls bouncing.

They have my mother's hair. I smile to myself as I watch them scurry to grab their meals. My mother's hair, with my colouring - a brown that can flash gold if it's left to bleach beneath the summer sun. Miche and Listbeth have my eyes, too, deep and brown and perfectly unremarkable, except for the fact that they can sometimes be mistaken for black. Only Asha has Erwin's crystal blue eyes.

I check to make sure Miche's bottle of milk is full enough before sitting down to eat myself. The steaming pile of eggs on my plate makes my mouth water, and Erwin hands me a piece of floury, fair-colored bread.

"It's very good, Father," he says, taking a bite of eggs.

"Thank you! Although I don't seem to go fast enough for miss Asha," my father-in-law replies, glaring good-naturedly at his eldest grandchild.

She giggles. "It's good, Grandpa. Thank you!"

"Thank you, Grandpa," Lisbeth echoes. Miche stares at the solid food and chomps on the teat of his bottle.

"Yes, thank you, Father," I say.

Through the clatter of forks on plates, giggles of Asha and Lisbeth, delighted teasing of Erwin's father, and Miche's happy slurping, me and Erwin's eyes meet. My heart feels soft and buoyant in my chest, like a bird soaring high above the vast earth below. He is safe, he is mine. All is right.

All is as it should have been.

Chapter Text

I jolt awake.

My heart pounds uncomfortably loudly in my chest, each beat like the heavy final thump of a funeral drum. I don't know what time it is. The light seeping in through the one tiny window in my sleeping chamber is the same muddled gold. No sunlight reaches down here, far below the open skies of the world above. I turn and squint at the cuckoo clock ticking away on the wall opposite of my bed: a little after seven in the morning. It's a normal time for me to wake up. So why do I feel like I was just torn from the deepest of slumber?

The itchy, uncomfortable feeling of worry eats across my skin. Something's not right, not right at all, but I can't place it. I lay in bed for a moment, shivering beneath the thin sheet. I run through any reasons for me to be concerned. Sickness - no, I feel fine, if a little bit weak with hunger. Money - not that either, since I had a few customers last night who tipped well.

Erwin....

Yes, that's it, the reason my stomach now curdled with anxiety. Erwin is coming back tonight. Right now, he is probably somewhere far away, somewhere where the safety of the walls couldn't reach him. I shiver again, but this time it wasn't because of the cold. I always hate it when he leaves to go on expeditions with the Scout Regiment; thoughts of monstrous Titans and uncertain peril always plague me whenever he leaves my side. I know he's a strong and capable man, with enough wits and skill to maneuver out of any situation, but I cannot help but worry. He is always saying how he is going to die someday. Too young, he says. I'll die too young and leave you alone, and I can't do that to you.

He always comes back, though, no matter how many times he tells me he won't. And I let him every time. No matter how many times he says that he's just another customer, just another man paying my rent, just another solitary night that matters not to me. He and I both know that's a lie. Because every time, after we're through, I hear him admit it to me, just as he starts to drift off to sleep.

I love you, Sofia.

I let him sleep and hold him in my arms until morning. I dare not close my eyes, for fear that when I open them, he'll be gone, his words just a dream I convinced myself was real.

I can't help loving him. I never could - even though both he and I know it will eventually just hurt us both. One of us is going to die. Whether that is me, from starvation or sickness that ran rife in the Underground, or him, on the battlefield of humanity's last hope - neither of us know yet. But it's only a matter of time.

I swallow back my worry and sit up in bed, hugging my knees. He's fine, I tell myself. He knows how to take care of himself.

I wait for the prickles of anxiety to cease. They don't.

I try again. He's the most experienced man in the Scouts. He's survived this far, after all. Why should this time be any different?

The feeling in my gut sours even more. At this rate, I'm just making it worse, so I wrench myself out of bed and cross over the the chest that sits behind my door.

I lift open the lid and look inside. The chest holds all of my most prized possessions - my only possessions, really: my dresses, underwear, garters. On top of the clothing lies two portraits. One of my mother, which she had made when she was younger, when she made enough money to afford it. In it, her dark hair curls about her shoulders and frames her round face. Her brown eyes gaze out at me from the canvas, her small lips curved in a mischievous smile. We look different enough; I have her eyes, but my hair is a lighter shade of brown and not as curly. I'm glad I have this piece of her to look back on, or else, by now, I might have forgotten what she looks like. She died when I was only thirteen, but she taught me everything I know about the Underground. How to make a living, how to flirt a man out of a few shillings, and, most importantly, how to die. Or, rather, how I am not going to die. She wasted away down here, so far beneath the ground, desperate for healthy sunshine, sickly from the lack of fresh air. Trapped.

I place the portrait gently on the floor beside me. Her eyes stare up at the ceiling instead of into my own.

I pick up the next portrait instead. It's of Erwin, one of only two gifts he's ever given me. His stern blue gaze is serious but not cold; it wraps around me like a warm stream of water. His thick eyebrows are drawn close together over his long nose, so he looks perpetually concerned. His fair, blond hair has been combed to the side, the shadows beneath his cheekbones stark against his pale skin. I brush my fingertips across the painted canvas and sigh to myself. Wherever he is, I hope he's safe - all I want is to see his face again, to feel his strong arms around me, to lay my cheek against the cold flesh of his firm chest. I close my eyes.

Above my head, the cuckoo clock strikes a quarter after seven. I glance up at it, knowing I need to get started with my day. I need some food, first of all, and the tips I earned last night are burning a hole in my figurative pocket. There's some lace negligee I need to mend, as well, a few stockings to patch, perhaps even a robe to hem.... I lurch to my feet. Food first; my stomach yowls in agreement.

I choose a frock from my chest and slip it on. It's simple enough that I can do it up myself, but still promiscuous enough that I'll get stared at when I go to run my errands. I don't prefer it that way. I'd much rather be able to buy groceries without people staring at me, but what's the use of owning a more modestly cut dress in my profession? I decide to wear a cloak over it nonetheless, since I'm not looking to score a customer with this outing.

I take my satchel off of its hook and slip the tips I made last night into my bust. My corset holds the cold coins tight against my skin.

I step out of my sleeping chamber. The hall is dark and chilly, with only a few lamps lit next to the door of each room. It seems that none of the other girls are awake; I hear someone loudly snoring in the room across the hall from mine. Most girls sleep clean through the morning, since we're always up so late at night, but I've always been a morning person. Though I stay up until the wee hours of the morning, by seven I usually can't stay in bed any longer.

I head down the hallway and descend to the tavern below the rooms. It's empty except for Uncle Abraham, the man who owns the brothel and who owns, almost literally, me and all the other girls who call the brothel home. His wrinkled face creases with delight when he sees me.

"Sofia! How was your night?" he calls to me, setting aside the glasses he is wiping in order to give me his full attention.

"Good, Uncle Abraham," I reply with a smile. I'm lucky to work for him; he's fair and he's no creep. He respects the girls who work for him and treats them as employees, and he won't charge a girl if she can't work one night for some reason. You pay your rent every night you work, he always says. And if you don't work one night, well, I'm not gonna kill you for that.

"You paid for your room already, right, my dear?"

"Yes. I paid the five shillings." In order to be able to take customers, I need to cover the fee for my sleeping chamber first. As long as I pay Uncle Abraham those five shillings, I can take in as many customers as I want - and charge them however much I want.

"And how much didja make, then?"

I smile to myself, proud. "The first one I could only get seven shillings off of. But the second was drunk enough to give me fifteen."

"Not bad!" Uncle Abraham exclaims. "You go treat yourself to a nice meal now, you hear?"

"That's what I'm off to do!" I wave my satchel at him.

"Good, good. Oh, and Sofia -" He turns back to wiping the whiskey glasses clean. "Get some sleep this afternoon. The Scout Regiment's due back today - you might see your commander tonight."

His eyes glint with teasing malice, and I force myself to laugh flippantly. I don't think Uncle Abraham, or anyone else for that matter, knows how I truly feel about Erwin, and I don't want them to know. It's just unheard of for prostitutes to fall in love, especially with their clients.

"Shush now, Uncle Abraham," I say. "You know he pays you extra to keep you from spreading it around that he comes here, and besides, I don't want the other girls to hear and get jealous. You know how he tips well."

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course. I wouldn't want to start a fight."

"Thank you," I breathe and step out of the brothel.

The lamps outside, perpetually lit, bathe the underground street in a wash of muddy golden light. I pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders. It's been so long since I've snuck up to the surface that I forget what it's like to feel the heat of the sun on my face, or the splatter of rain on the hood of my cloak. Perhaps I should venture up to see the Scouts' triumphant return - but no. Something tells me to stay and wait for Erwin to come to me.

I head off down the street towards the marketplace, where I will buy a loaf of bread and perhaps some cheese or an apple. My stomach grumbles just thinking about it, and I increase my pace.

"Sofia! Hold on! Wait up!"

I turn around and spot another girl hurrying after me. Her short red hair blazes after her like a flame, her garishly green dress flapping about her ankles as she trots to catch up with me. I grin at her.

"What, Lailin, up already?" I call to my best friend.

"Oh no!" Her grey eyes shine with exhaustion. "I just never got to sleep last night."

My mouth twists in pity. "Ach. I'm sorry."

"It's fine!" she chirps. "You'll never believe the tips I got - all from one customer."

"One customer?! Kept you up all night?"

Lailin shoots me a wry glance. "I don't know why that shocks you. You and Commander Erwin stay up all night all the time."

I blush. Besides Uncle Abraham, Lailin is the only other person in the world who knows that Erwin visits me frequently, and unlike Uncle Abraham, Lailin also knows how I feel about him. I have to duck away from her teasing gaze, my cheeks burning.

"Yes, well," I mutter. "That's not really your style."

"To fall in love with my customers? Very much it is not." She falls in step beside me and takes my arm. "Anyway, he was a Military Policeman."

"Ah, really? I had one of those last night too."

"He kept bragging to me that he was rich because he sold some excess gear to the black market or something. Well, it sure was true, I tell you that," Lailin says. "The shillings he spent on me - my word! He may not have been the best lover, but for thirty shillings I'd be inclined to lie about that point."

"Thirty shillings?" I repeat.

"Thirty! I'll treat you to breakfast," she exclaims.

"Oh, no, that's-" I stop and frown. The anxious, prickling feeling in my gut has returned in full force, worse this time, leaving a sour, metallic taste in my mouth. It overcomes me in a wave so strong I sway on my feet.

Lailin tightens her grip on my arm, and her eyebrows furrow in concern. "Sofia, are you alright?"

"It's only-" No, something's wrong. My knees shake so violently I fear I cannot take another step. I lean against Lailin for support as fear churns in my stomach and up through my throat.

"What's wrong?"

"I - don't know." My voice shakes. "I woke up this morning feeling like this, too."

"Are you sick?"

I shake my head. "No. It's... it's just worry."

"About Erwin." Her tone softens.

I nod, closing my eyes against the dim glare of the streetlamps.

"He's fine, I'm sure. You know that."

"I know, but ever since he... the expedition when he lost his arm..."

"Commander Erwin is very strong. I don't think he can die, Sofia."

I can't find it within myself to answer her. The fear is thick within my throat now, choking me, filling my head with visions of blood and monsters. He has to be all right. I'm worrying about nothing - he's all right.

"Sofia - hey, Sofia! What's wrong?"

My vision is spinning. Where are all these dark spots coming from? And why are they hurtling towards me? The ground whirls up to catch me as I stumble and fall, falling down for what feels like too long of a time.

Erwin's all right. He has to be.

Chapter Text

The rumble of the cart disrupts my thoughts. I know I should be on horseback, at the front of the formation with the rest of the nine who survived, but I can't bring myself to mount a horse again. I claim injury; my arm is tied in a sling, cuts weeping blood down my brow and into my eyes. Any other soldier would request a break after the beating I've endured. But physical pain has never been the oppressor that keeps me from fighting.

What keeps me from joining the rest of the Scouts now are my own troubled thoughts.

Armin lies next to me, eyes clenched shut in a fitful dream, his long blond hair tousled and spread around his head like a halo. I watch him sleep and try to drive the uncertain and accusing thoughts from my mind. Why did I save Armin, and not Erwin? Even I'm not sure - I let my heart lead that decision instead of my head. More merciful to let Erwin die, though it could doom us all.

Damn you, Erwin, I think to myself for the hundredth time. I remember how he slapped my hand away from his arm, how he muttered those final words beneath his breath, how I promised him I'd kill the Beast Titan one day.... How my heart wrenched as I realized it wasn't my place to pull him back to this hell, where he'd just have to play the part of a demon again....

Hanji rides beside the cart, silent, their glasses glinting in the late afternoon sun. I can tell they don't understand the reasoning behind my decision, either. Hanji would have chosen to save Erwin, I know, but they don't question me. I am thankful for that.

"No titans spotted yet," they report to me. "We've had a relatively smooth ride up to Wall Rose."

"Good," I mutter, gazing down at the broken pair of blades lying forgotten at my side. I can't fight titans now; I don't have the strength or the resolve anymore.

"We'll have to tell Commander-in-Chief Zackly and Queen Historia what happened. They'll want to know everything. Especially about Erwin."

Hanji's voice is solid and serious enough, but I detect a slight tremor in it. I keep forgetting that they lost a friend, too.

"Can you?" I flinch at the hard, steely note in my voice.

"I'll need your help. They'll be expecting an explanation for your choice of who to use the serum on."

"I know." Dread and annoyance rise like a bitter juice to coat my tongue. "But there's something I have to do first."

Hanji looks at me. "And what's that?"

I reach into the pocket of my trousers, and my fingers close around the cool, round gemstone of Erwin's medal. He gave it to me in those final seconds before he left on that fatal charge. I can't picture him without it: the small green medallion he always wore, a tribute to his dedication and service to the people of the Walls.

I need you to promise me something, Levi, he had said, screams and the crash of boulders echoing around us. Can you do this for me?

Whatever you need, I promised.

The air hung with red mist. Take my medal. I need you to give it to someone. Her name is - His voice broke. Sofia Arawen. Tell her... tell her I'm sorry; that I knew it would end this way. Take it.

I remember the anguish in his voice startling me, and how his hand shook as he dropped the medallion into my palm. It shone green through the bloody red mist.

Who-? Where can I find her?

His eyes closed, and to my shock, I saw a single tear trickle down his cheek. In my dormitory at the capitol. There's a desk with a drawer that has everything you need to know inside. I'm sorry, but I can't...

Who was Sofia Arawen? I didn't have time then to figure it out. I pocketed the medal and placed a hand on Erwin's shoulder.

I will do it.

And Levi, he said, his eyes deep with a pain I couldn't understand. If you find her, promise me you will protect her for me. For all the times I won't be there to.

I nodded once. Even the screams of Scouts dying around us faded away as I promised him, then and there, to protect Sofia Arawen, whoever she may be. I promise.

Thank you.

Was it then he decided he was going to die? Was it then that he gave up fighting so hard to live? I don't think I'll ever know, but as I watched him walk away from me, I think I knew, even then, that he was never meant to survive that morning. The sun had risen on his last day.

My fist is clenched around the cords of the medallion, and Hanji waits for me to continue our conversation. Their eyes stare straight ahead without wavering, their hands gentle on the reins of their horse.

"I promised Erwin I would do something for him, right before his last charge," I say. "I've got to do that before anything else. I promised him."

"What did you promise you'd do?" Hanji asks.

I slide the medallion back into the pocket of my trousers. "I need to find someone. A woman named Sofia Arawen."

"His relative?"

"I'm not sure." The name doesn't sound familiar, but then again, Erwin never talked about his family much. "He told me to find her and give her his medal, and I'd like to do it as soon as possible. Whoever she is, she seems to have been important enough to Erwin that she deserves to hear about his death straight from us."

"I agree." Hanji's voice is soft.

"So you'll help me find her, then?"

They nod. "I'll send a note up to Commander Zackly that we will meet with him for the debrief tomorrow night. We can look for Sofia Arawen as soon as we get back."

"Erwin said he left some information in his dormitory to help us locate her."

"Alright."

Beside me, Armin coughs and stirs in his sleep, but doesn't wake up. I stare at him instead of at my now-empty hands, and my uncertainty cools to a scattering of hot coals instead of a full-on blaze. I'm on the right track now. I'm sure I made the right decision. I have to be sure.

"You don't think-" Hanji clears her throat. "You don't think that this Sofia Arawen could be... perhaps maybe.... his-"

I shake my head vehemently.

"Erwin didn't do that sort of thing. It goes completely against everything that he believed."

"None of us knew him really, though," Hanji whispers, their shoulders sagging with a sigh. "Even men with the strongest ideals... No one knows what they decide in private."

"I knew Erwin better than any human alive, and I know he wouldn't."

The snap of my tone is final; I won't hear any disagreement from Hanji. Even as I determine this in my head, though, I can't help but think... A lover, perhaps... but I didn't let myself linger on it. The Erwin I had come to know feared hurting those he loved, so he would never have let himself fall in love with a woman he knew he would eventually leave heartbroken. Erwin had dedicated himself so totally to his role as the devil of Eldia that I don't think he could still love. Not when he had given his heart so totally to the pursuit of the truth.

~~~~~

We reach Wall Rose by the time the sun is low in the sky. A crowd of people awaits us, ready to wave their pennants of celebration, but any triumphant cries are cut short when they notice how few of us there are. I cast my eyes down to the ground and refuse to look any of them in the eyes. How many are searching for their lost sister, husband, daughter, son, niece, grandchild? How many hearts will seize in panic when they see only nine returning? How many shaking hands will reach to cover trembling lips once they realize - "the one I love is never coming home"?

There will be so many letters to write in the weeks that follow: "Our sincerest apologies and sympathy - ___ ____ has fallen in battle. Their courage was shown in their final moments, and the Scout Regiment offers its condolences to the family of the fallen."

We push on, through towns and villages, past more throngs of disappointed civilians, and deeper within Wall Rose. The horses stop at the gate to Wall Sina by the time the sun is setting, and the Garrison officers who let us in stare at our small remaining number with horror plain on their faces. Nobody expected our losses to be this huge, I think to myself bitterly. Not even the military itself.

By the time we make it to the capitol, at the very center of Wall Sina, the moon is out, and nobody waits to welcome us home. I thank the gods for that, at least; I couldn't bear to watch the disappointment and fear play out again and again in each new pair of eyes.

"Mikasa." I call to the silent black-haired girl riding close to Eren's side at the front of the formation.

She turns to face me, exhaustion thick in every line on her brow, but her brown eyes are hard with determination. Just this morning she held her blade to my throat. Now she leaps to obey my every command.

Gratitude, for saving her friend's life instead of Erwin's? Or fear, because she knows now just how unpredictable I can become?

"Yes, Captain?"

"Ride up to the palace and tell them we will be in for a debrief tomorrow night," I order her. "Explain that we succeeded in retaking Wall Maria and in discovering what was in Eren's basement, but we sustained heavy losses."

"Roger, Captain."

I watch as she canters away, then sink back down into the cart. Thank god for obedient cadets; the thought of having to face anyone at the palace right now makes me want to spend the rest of my life scrubbing toilet bowls.

"Everyone else, let's head straight to the dormitories," Hanji commands. "All of you need to sleep."

The dormitory for the Scout Regiment is terribly silent when we step inside. I try not to think of all the cold, empty rooms waiting for occupants who will never use them again and watch as Jean, Sasha, Connie, Eren, Floch, and Armin trudge in solemn quiet up to their dorms. Hanji watches them, too, and I can tell they're perturbed by the silence as well.

"You sure you still want to search for Sofia Arawen tonight?" they ask me.

I nod. "I told you. I've got to do this before I can focus on anything else."

"Then let's go up to Erwin's room."

A sickly sweet emotion, almost like dread, prickles across my scalp and down my back. I don't have the slightest clue what awaits us in Erwin's dormitory, and part of me thinks I should leave it that way. I'd be better off not knowing. Each step of the stairs feels like the tramp of an ominous war drum; something big is waiting for me in the drawer of that desk, I can feel it.

The door to Erwin's room is unlocked, so Hanji pushes it open easily. We step inside to see everything just as Erwin had left it: the bed made perfectly, wardrobe snapped shut, papers in order on his large desk. The urge to stand and look, to not move a single thing, overtakes me with so much force that I can't take another step inside.

"He told you whatever information we need is in the desk drawer?" Hanji's voice breaks through my shocked stupor.

"Yes."

I can only watch as they cross the room to the desk beneath the window. They reach behind the chair and pull open the drawer. It slides free with the protesting creak of old, dry wood.

"There's a letter," Hanji says. "It's in Erwin's handwriting."

"Let me see."

I stride across the room and peer over their shoulder at the thin piece of parchment. In the flickering candlelight, Erwin's careful lettering seems to dance on the yellow paper, and I squint to read his words.

Dear Sofia,

If you are reading this now, it means I am already dead.

I never meant to hurt you like this. I told myself to forget you, and I told you to leave me behind - just another memory in a life of memories that mean nothing. It's not your fault but mine. I never meant to fall for you, and I never wanted you to love me.

And yet, know this: I have treasured every moment we spent together. It's selfish, I know, but you have been the first thing I think of in the morning and the last I think of at night, and every time I picture your smile and remember your touch I can't help but feel purely content. You are the reason I can find beauty in this cruel world. You are the reason I know there is something to fight for, even after all of the terrible things I have seen.

I love you. I have loved you, and I pray you will be able to forget me quickly now that I am gone. Hopefully my death means that a brighter world is coming for you, one in which you can live in peace, without fear.

Don't waste your tears on me; I'm just one selfish man.

Love,

Erwin

I can't breathe. It's as if someone is holding their fist tight around my neck, in a grip so strong it cuts the skin on my throat like steel. The self-loathing is plain in Erwin's letter, and for once I see his carefully created mask slip.

So Erwin could still love, even though he hated himself for it.

"There's something beneath it," Hanji breathes, picking up another slip of paper from the drawer. On it is printed an address, also in Erwin's slanted handwriting.

The word at the top catches my attention. "The Underground," I read, somewhat incredulously.

"Is that where she lives?"

"I don't know." I take the slip of paper with address from them. "I would assume so."

"So that's where we need to go."

I feel myself nodding, even as shock numbs every part of my body, down to my fingertips. The letter Hanji is holding is clear; Sofia Arawen was not just Erwin's relative. She was his lover. A pain catches me around my heart as I realize it's now my job to tell her that the love of her life is dead.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day passes with little incident. I notice that Lailin never strays far from my side, though, obviously concerned about my wellbeing after my fainting spell earlier. I can't blame her. Any sign of sickness down here in the Underground often doesn't bode well for longevity of life. We've seen it again and again; people show signs of illness and then die mere weeks later. Nobody has access to medicine, and few can afford it. An endless cycle of poverty and death.

"You're ready for tonight?" Lailin asks me now, perched on the end of my bed.

I finish tying my lace robe around my waist and squint at myself in my cracked, dirt-spotted mirror. "I think so," I reply. I know she's not talking about getting dressed.

"You're not going down to the bar, then?"

"No." I drape the robe more flatteringly so that the lace droops down off of my shoulders, revealing my collarbone. "I don't want to see anybody else tonight."

"Just Erwin," Lailin teases.

"Yes." I bite hard on my lip to keep it from trembling, and her eyes snap at once to the nervous movement.

She sighs. "He's fine, Sofia," she assures me gently.

"I know."

In the mirror, my eyes aren't convinced. I bend down to dodge their piercing gaze and pretend to straighten my garter instead.

"Well," Lailin says, glancing at the cuckoo clock and rising to her feet. "It's close to ten o'clock. I should be getting down to the bar."

"Score a good customer." My pale lips curve into what I hope is an encouraging smile.

"I will." She smirks back at me. "Have a good night with Erwin - don't sleep too much tonight."

I roll my eyes. "Sure, I definitely -"

A knock at the door cuts me off abruptly, and the meagre contents of my stomach harden into lead. I stare at Lailin helplessly, unsure of what to do or how to react. My heart flutters; is Erwin out there, waiting for me? Is he here already?

Lailin jumps to answer the door for me. She pulls it open, but I know something is wrong when I see her face completely drain of color.

"Are you Sofia Arawen?" A soft, dangerous voice asks her.

Her grey eyes flick to me in surprise. I can't see who's speaking from my vantage point behind the door, but I can tell that the man's voice isn't Erwin's. Something scalding hot slips down the back of my throat and straight down into the pit of my stomach.

"I-I'm not, no," Lailin stutters. "This is her room, though - she's just back here."

I step around the door and slip next to my friend. "I'm Sofia Arawen."

Two people stand in the doorway, waiting for me. The first person has shoulder length brownish red hair, gathered in a rough ponytail, and large rectangular glasses. They are wearing a short green capelet with the Wings of Freedom, the insignia of the Scout Regiment, embroidered on the back.

The other man I do recognize, and my heart sinks like an anchor. He is Captain Levi of the Scouts. His light eyes are sunken deep in their sockets, framed with dark bags, and his black hair is parted severely on the left side of his face. Nothing in the set of his jaw inspires hope in me. I clutch at Lailin's arm for support, but only for a moment.

"Do you need something from me?" I ask.

"Yes." Captain Levi's voice remains flat, emotionless. "Is it all right if we speak to you? Privately?"

I nod. My head feels too heavy. "Please, come in."

Lailin squeezes my hand and slips out the door as the two Scouts come in. My hand trembles over the doorknob as I close the door shut behind her, and I pray to each of the three goddesses that whatever Captain Levi wants to tell me isn't bad news. Even as the prayers form in my mind I know it's a useless plea.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," Levi says. "I'm Captain Levi, and this is Commander Hanji." He gestures to his companion, who bobs their head once in greeting and holds out their hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," they say, but they can't look me in the eye. My feeling of intense trepidation increases tenfold.

"You already know my name," I say needlessly.

"Sofia Arawen, yes. You knew Erwin Smith?" Levi's tone is forcibly dispassionate, and I notice he won't look at me, either.

I close my eyes. I know what's coming; I press my lips together to keep them from trembling. "I knew him."

"How well?"

"Well," I whisper. It's all I can manage to say without breaking my fragile composure.

"You were lovers."

I flinch at the ice that crackles in shards from Levi's voice. "Yes."

"In that case, I have a letter for you. From Erwin." Levi hands me a folded piece of parchment, and when his hands brush against mine, I shiver at how cold they are. "I'm afraid we have some bad news for you."

I pretend I'm not here. This is not my reality.

"Erwin is dead. He was killed this morning."

I'm expecting it, but the blow still crashes into me with the force of a hurricane. I try in vain to suck in a breath, my lungs deflating, and stagger as if I have been physically struck. My eyes fly open. Even the dim light of the Underground is too bright for them, too much; colors fly around me, a kaleidoscope of sound and light that pass through my senses meaninglessly.

My heart. I claw at my chest in desperation. Why isn't it beating anymore? Is it because I can feel it's cracked, shattered pieces piercing the inside of my chest? Because it is no longer whole?

A despairing scream bubbles from my lips, and I fall to my knees. Commander Hanji jumps forward at once, extending a sympathetic hand, but Captain Levi only stares at me.

Why is there surprise in his eyes, and not compassion?

"There, there," Hanji soothes me. I don't hear their voice; I stare ahead at Levi instead.

There are no tears. What's wrong with me? Why can't I cry?

"I'm sorry," Levi says at last, his voice hoarse. "He obviously meant a lot to you. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing..." I shake my head. "I loved him."

I'm shaking so badly. Hanji takes my hands in their own and squeezes them, trying to quiet them, but I'm not sure if I'll ever stop trembling. The world is still spinning about me, crashing to bits without Erwin's steady presence to keep it level. I think of the portrait tucked lovingly in my chest; his blue eyes will never flash at me through the shadows of the night ever again.

I will never see him again.

A sob snags in my throat, and at last the tears come. Hanji holds me against them as I weep out my grief, a never-ending torrent of guilt and anguish, a deluge of anger and regret. He's gone. Erwin is gone, and I am left to fight through this world alone. I don't want to anymore; I'd much rather sleep in eternal peace with him instead. Death is preferable to the deep loneliness that stabs into my soul. Death is preferable to the fractured shards of my heart that pierce my chest.

"How?" I croak out. "How did it happen?"

I stare up at Levi, my eyes hard. I have to know everything.

Levi returns my gaze, unflinching, but I read pain deep within his grey eyes. "He led a charge towards the enemy as a distraction. He knew what was likely to happen. He may have lost his life, but our mission succeeded because of him. He died a hero."

A hero. Someone to be proud of. And yet, selfishly, I wish he had chosen this one time to not be the hero, to let someone else die instead. Even as I think it, I know that's never what he would have done. Erwin had lived for so long beneath the burden of guilt and regret that I knew all he would have wanted was to be called a hero after his time had come. At least it was on his terms.

"Was it quick?"

This time, Levi turns away from me completely, his shoulders hunched. "No."

No. My heart wrenches as I imagine the pain he must have gone through in his final moments. What was he thinking? Could he remember anything towards the end, even his own name? He told me once about the horrors of battle, of the terror and anguish of losing his arm. I would have given anything to keep him from feeling any sort of pain again.

Not even his death was merciful. He lived a life devoid of mercy.

"We thought you should hear it from us," Hanji murmurs. "You obviously meant a lot to him, and ... we thought you should be the first to know."

I glance down at the letter Levi gave me, which lays forgotten on the floor at my side. I can't find the courage within me to read it; I don't think I ever will. "Thank you," I whisper.

"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask the Scout Regiment. We're at your service," Hanji continues.

"Thank you," I say again.

"Sofia," Levi says.

He looks over his shoulder at me, but his eyes are softer now, more forgiving.

"I promised him I'd protect you. Whatever you need, I can make it happen. I'll do whatever I can to help you."

I close my eyes as a fresh wave of tears seeps down my cheeks. "You're very kind."

"I keep my promises." He pulls open the door and takes a half-step across the threshold. "And - he really did love you."

I watch him go without another word, the stillness in my chest searing through my body more painfully than any outer wound. I want to believe what Levi says is true - haven't I heard the same from Erwin himself?

Hanji hesitates at my side as Levi's footsteps fade down the hallway beyond. "Are you feeling alright now?" they ask me, concern plain across their features. I'm sure I shocked them, what with collapsing to the ground and shaking so much, but I can tell they aren't judging me. Perhaps it's this warm, companionable worry that prods me to speak up again.

"Yes, I'm alright. But I - there's something else I need to tell you," I say.

"Of course. Anything."

I didn't want to bring it up with Captain Levi in the room. I got the feeling he already doesn't like me much, or is at least just a very frigid person, and what I'm about to say is unforgivable. I push myself to a more comfortable position on my knees and take a deep breath.

"There's a child."

Hanji stares at me blankly. "A child?" they repeat.

"Yes." I press my palms against the worn wood of the floor. "Erwin and I had a child."

"Oh!" Hanji's eyes stretch wide, and they take a few steps backwards in shock. "He - and you - where?"

"I'm not sure where she is now. I-I couldn't keep her, so Erwin arranged for her to be taken in by another family. He had Mike take her - Mike Zacharias."

Hanji sighs, running a hand through their messy hair. "And you know Mike is dead now, too, right?"

"I know. Erwin told me," I murmur. I stare at the floor, guilt and regret thick in my stomach.

"As far as I know Mike never mentioned taking in a child. He could have simply passed her on to someone else, though; I know he had a sister who was married, with a few other children," Hanji speculates.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if she's there or not."

"Of course, of course. Don't worry. We'll find her."

I close my eyes. The thought of seeing my daughter again fills me with joy but also intense fear. She would be almost four years old now, unrecognizable; I wonder what her voice sounds like, if her hair has grown long yet. If she likes to run around or sit still. If she remembers anything about the short time we spent together. If she has learned anything about her father at all. There are so many things I wouldn't know about her, if I ever did see her again, that I'm afraid. She would be ashamed of me and ashamed of Erwin, because of what I am.

"If you do find her," I say quietly, after a pause. "Tell her who her father is, and what a hero he was. But don't tell her about me. Make up something - someone - else."

Hanji's eyes soften at me in the dim light. "You don't have to be ashamed of it, Sofia."

"But I am," I whisper. "He never should have loved me."

Chapter Text

POV: Hanji

Levi stares at me as I exit the girl's room and close the door behind me. I've never been good at hiding my emotions, and I'm sure my face clearly reveals how troubled I am as I face him in the dim hallway.

"What were you just talking about?" he asks me, his voice as cold and dispassionate as ever.

I shake my head. "We can discuss it later."

I know Levi well enough that I predict telling him the news that Erwin and Sofia have an illegitimate child will prompt either an explosion or a murder. I'd like to get him as far away from Sofia as I can before I break the news to him.

He strolls down the hallway at my side, his hands stowed deep in the pockets of his trousers. He keeps his head bent down so I can't read his eyes, and I find myself worrying what he will do now, what he expects me to do. Neither of us expected this - or at least I didn't. But I'm the commander of the Scout Regiment now. It's my job to pick up the broken pieces.

"You're still in shock," I say after a pause, as we duck through the rollicking tavern on the floor below and slip back outside.

He squints up at the gas streetlamps that line the subterranean street. "Shocked is one way of putting it. I think I expected it, though."

"You think you did?"

"Deep down, I think I knew all along there must have been someone," Levi explains. "As much as it didn't seem like it at times, Erwin was only human. No man can go through what he did alone; someone must have been there to support him."

"That's true," I agree.

We walk on in silence for a while, each of us caught up in our own thoughts and memories. I'm exhausted. This day has felt neverending, a continuous nightmare. I sigh and straighten my ponytail.

"Then why, if you expected it," I say, "Why were you so insistent that he didn't have a lover?"

Levi shrugs and frowns. "I suppose I didn't want to face the fact that there were things about him I didn't know. I thought he would have told me. I guess he didn't."

"Well, can you blame him for not telling anyone?" I reason. "It would have caused a scandal, if it got out - his enemies would have had a field day discrediting him if they found out he'd been seeing a prostitute." Or that he'd had a child with her, I add silently to myself.

"Yeah, well, I guess I didn't expect him to be so careless," Levi mutters.

"Careless?"

"To even get involved with a prostitute in the first place. He knew he had enemies, and he must have known it would be the end of his career if they would find out," he says. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and sighs. "Still, I guess he was willing to risk it."

"True love and all that," I agree.

At this, Levi's face darkens, his brow furrowing in concern. "That girl is going to have a hell of a time dealing with it."

I think about how she fell when she heard the news. Her skin had turned so pale she looked ghostly in the candlelight, her eyes wide and wild with a pain so immeasurable I could scarcely imagine it. The hoarse scream that bubbled from her lips as she collapsed still rings in my ears. Yeah, she was going to have a hell of a time dealing with it - and the child....

"We need to get her out of here somehow."

It's almost as if he can read my thoughts, and my eyes snap to stare at him. "Sofia, you mean?"

"Yes. I promised Erwin I'd protect her. It's easy to give up down here; you can't even be reassured by the sun always rising again or the stars to light your way in the darkness. It's all shadows. I don't want her to succumb to them now that he's gone."

I nod slowly. "How do we get her out?"

"Money would be the best way. If we can get her enough for her to start a life on the surface, she'll be fine," Levi muses. "But I don't know how kindly she'll take to charity, and besides, it's not like any of us are exactly rolling in cash."

An idea pops into my head. "How old is she?" I question him, doubting he'll know but figuring it won't hurt to ask.

"Early twenties. Perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two, I'd guess," he growls. "Young."

"Young," I agree. I wonder how old she was when the child was born, and my stomach squeezes a bit as I realize that means Erwin was over a decade older than her. "A little too young."

"That's what I'd say, too, but living down here has a way of aging you far beyond your years," Levi says, knowing exactly what I mean. "I'm sure she's had to act mature for her age for most of her life already."

"But she's young enough that she could... that she could... how old do you have to be to have the Training Corps reject you?" I say, half to myself.

"She's not applying to be in the Training Corps."

Levi's voice has a sliver of poison in it. The underground street is dark and cold enough, but now I shiver as the temperature drops another couple of degrees. His livid eyes flash down at the pavement, and I immediately regret speaking.

"If she does well enough, she could be eligible to become a member of the Military Police. Nothing's safer, right?" I attempt to defend my idea.

"Like hell she will. You saw her," Levi snarls. "No matter how well she does, if we tell her to join the Training Corps, she'll decide to be a Scout at the end of it. She'd kill herself to feel like a hero. I'm not going to let that happen."

"Well, do you have any other ideas?" I huff. "You're sort of just shooting down every solution we come up with!"

We've reached the staircase back up to the world above. I can feel the slightest chill of the night air snaking all the way down it, even though I can't see the top.

Levi runs a hand through the long mop on the top of his head and growls to himself in frustration. "I need to think. Maybe when I'm not so bloody exhausted it'll come to me," he grumbles.

I nod. "You're right. Let's get back to the dorm."

~~~~~

POV: Sofia

I don't know how long I remain collapsed on the floor before Lailin creeps back into my room. I hear her inhale sharply as she takes in my sagging shoulders, my clenched fists, and the letter crumpled at my side.

"Sofia?" she whispers. "Are you..."

"He's dead."

Saying it out loud brings tears to my eyes again. I lift a trembling hand to cover my mouth and squeeze my other arm around my stomach, cowering away from her and crumbling back within myself.

"Sofia, I'm so sorry," Lailin murmurs. She darts to my side at once and wraps her little warm arms around me. I sigh into her comfort, but my shoulders hiccup violently against her embrace. The sobs won't stop. I didn't let myself fully lose it around Levi and Hanji; now, my despair and anger pour out of me in a maelstrom of muffled screams. Through it all, Lailin holds me and gently strokes my hair.

"There, there. Go on and cry."

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek and taste the bitter tang of blood on my tongue. I knew it would end like this - but the storm of grief still surprises me.

"I'm sorry, Sofia," Lailin says. There are tears of her own sparkling on her cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. Thank you, for being here," I reply, my voice rough, as though I've swallowed a cupful of iron nails.

"Of course. Do you need anything? I can get it for you. Water?"

I nod. My head aches from crying so much, and the skin around my eyes pounds with the heat of my heartbeat. I feel like I've been sobbing for hours.

Lailin gets up and steps over to my washstand. She pours a glass of water from the cracked china pitcher and stoops back down to hand it to me, and I take it from her, grateful. Ripples form on the surface of the water as I take the glass in my trembling hands. I stare at it for a moment. I am broken now. The thought flashes through my mind, unconnected to the image my eyes are transmitting to my brain, but as heavy and as terrifying as the jaws of a titan. I am broken now.

"Aren't you thirsty?" Lailin prods me gently, noticing my hesitation as I stare into the glass. "Why don't you take just a small sip?"

I nod, and the movement seems to take longer than it should. I raise the glass to my lips and take a long gulp. The shock of cold water traces down the back of my throat, all the way to the pit of my belly, a wake-up call. Its chill permeates into my bones until I'm shaking harder, but this time, it's not from grief. It's from rage.

I place the glass on the floor next to me with a resolute clink. Lailin's eyebrows rise in surprise as I leap to my feet, my hair weeping from the updo I'd swept it into earlier. My fists clench, my eyes spark - I'm sure I must look wild, insane, but right now all I cling to is the wrath turning my gut to ice. I'm angry. I don't know at whom, but I am. I'm angry that Erwin is dead, I'm angry that I don't know where my daughter is. I'm angry that I can't escape this hell of a place. I'm angry that all I have left of Erwin, all that tells me that he was a real man who loved me and not just a figment of my imagination, is a small portrait and a cracked green medallion. I'm angry that I couldn't do anything to keep him from leaving me.

"Sofia, what are you doing?"

Lailin's concerned voice snaps me out of my wrothy trance. I turn to see her staring at me with something close to fear bright in her eyes.

"Dammit, Lailin, it wasn't supposed to end this way."

But even as the words leave my mouth I know they aren't true. I know they aren't. Erwin told me from the start that he wouldn't live for very long; he knew that his duty meant the ultimate sacrifice. He would say time and time again that our love would only hurt me in the end. But I loved him anyway.

"What are you going to do?" Lailin says quietly.

The question stops me cold. In all honesty, I hadn't thought about it; for so long I'd only been living week to week, living only for the next time that Erwin would come to see me. Now? I can't stay down here, and I can't continue to live like this. The icy rage in my stomach hasn't receded. I cannot ignore it for the rest of my life - there has to be something I can do.

The answer comes to me in a flash. Of course! The Scout Regiment. I have to be on the front lines, where he would have been, fighting for a better place for us, even if that dream can no longer exist.

"If the world I lived for is dead," I whisper, "then I will fight to create the world he died for."

Chapter Text

May 845

POV: Sofia

My heart pounded.

"Come on, not here," I purred, pulling on the man's arm. He was too drunk to stand, really, and his friend was in no better shape. Still, they were willing to spend the shillings on me, so I did not complain. What was worrying, though, was how rough they were being with me.

"Shut up, girl," he slurred. "You be quiet or else we won't pay you."

I flinched as his arm encircled my shoulders a little too tightly, and he squished me close to his side. His companion stepped forward, eyes gleaming with interest.

"Let's go back to my place," he offered with a grin spotted with missing teeth.

I shook my head. Alarm bells rang shrilly in my mind; the number one rule of working the streets was to never allow a customer to take you back to their own home. That's why most girls found their way to brothels - places where they had their own space to entertain guests. I hadn't found a good brothel to settle down yet, but I still needed to work. This meant finding a new hotel room to stay in every time I got a new customer and somehow finding the money to cover the cost, and it also meant that customers would often offer up their own accommodations. It was much more dangerous working this way. I had no control, but I also didn't have a choice. I needed the money to survive.

"No, no, let's just go to a hotel," I suggested, cocking my head and running my fingers up and down his arm. "It'll be closer."

The man who was holding me snorted. "I'd rather just take you here in the street than pay for a hotel room," he growled. "Stop being so demanding, girl."

I swallowed hard. At this point, the meagre reward of a couple shillings seemed insignificant compared to the danger I'd be putting myself in if I went with these two men, but I couldn't wiggle out of his grasp. His friend's broken smile widened as he noticed me struggle.

"What, cold feet? Come on, don't back out on us now. We can pay you good, girlie."

"I-I'm sure -" I started to say, but the man holding me cut me off with a startling, sloppy kiss. I squirmed against the cold, fishlike feel of his lips against mine and used all of my strength to shove him off of me.

"Hey!" he snarled, and his friend leapt forward to grab my shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" his friend barked. "What do you think we're paying you for?"

Fear painted my tongue with a metallic taste. I glanced around to see if anyone was around who could help me out of my predicament, but every figure who passed averted their eyes from my desperate gaze. My heart sank. I would be left to face these two men on my own.

"I-I'm terribly sorry," I stammered. "I just wasn't expecting -"

"You're a bloody prostitute, aren't you?! What do you mean you weren't expecting it?" The man who kissed me spat at my feet, and I flinched away. His friend's grip on my shoulder increased in intensity.

"You expect us to pay you without you doing your job?"

"That's not what I said." My voice shook, but I tried to match his angry gaze.

"But you were thinking it! What do you take me for, a fool? Conniving whore!"

He raised his fist above his head, seething. I cowered away and squeezed my eyes shut, prepared for him to strike me, but the blow never came.

Instead, a man's voice broke through the quiet of the underground street.

"You, there. Stop."

It was spoken quietly, not loudly at all, but with enough force that I heard both of my attackers suck in breaths of shock. I opened my eyes a crack to see who had come to my aid.

There were two men, actually, their faces hidden under hooded green capes. My heart leapt; soldiers, perhaps even Military Policemen! I didn't care that they could arrest me for being a prostitute - I was just happy that their authority could get those men away from me.

"What's going on here?" one of the soldiers asked. His tone was serious, and the words rang with menace.

"This girl is a whore. She was trying to rob us," the man holding my shoulder said, slurring a bit.

I flushed. My dress wasn't helping matters; with its low-cut bodice and lack of real sleeves, it was obvious what my occupation was, and prostitutes were never believed.

"These men were attacking me," I countered.

"We were not," the man spat back.

The soldier took a step forward. "It looked like you were about to hit her."

"Yes, only because she wouldn't let - I mean - she -" The man broke off, frustrated. He couldn't accuse me of cheating him out of money without admitting he was soliciting a prostitute in the first place. "She was robbing us!"

"Sir, I'd advise you to leave right now, if you don't want to get arrested," the soldier said steadily. "You and your friend here."

The two men seethed at the pair of soldiers, but they slunk off without another word of protest. Their eyes gleamed angrily at me as they stalked away down the street. I let out a sigh of relief as they eventually disappeared into the shadows.

"Thank you," I breathed to the soldier.

I could see a sliver of his face now that he was closer to me. All I could see was a stern, unsmiling mouth and long, narrow nose, but I felt a shiver run down my spine.

He nodded. "Of course. Are you injured, miss?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. Thank you," I repeated.

The other soldier stepped in line with the first one. "Please, don't mention it. What's your name?" he asked.

"Sofia. Sofia Arawen."

The second soldier pulled his hood down and extended his hand. In the dim glow of the streetlight, I could see his pale brown hair and light green eyes. A thin goatee and mustache covered his chin. "I'm Captain Mike Zacharias of the Scout Regiment."

I grasped his hand and felt my heart jump at how big it was around mine. "Nice to meet you," I replied with a small smile.

He took a deep sniff. "You smell wonderful. Kind of like a forest, but also kind of like alcohol."

I laughed. What on earth -?

"Don't mind Mike," the first soldier apologized. "He has a bad habit of smelling people as soon as he meets them."

"Oh! That's all right," I said.

"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" Mike grumbled to his companion.

The hooded soldier paused for a moment. I saw his hand tense briefly near the holster of blades strapped to his hip, but eventually he extended his hand to me. "Erwin Smith," he said, his voice emotionless.

I took his hand. It was warm, rough with callouses, and strong around my slim fingers.

"Also of the Scout Regiment?" I asked him.

He nodded once, but did not move to remove his hood. Hmm, a man of mystery - I felt heat pound across my skin as I wondered what the rest of him looked like beneath his cloak. Blushing, I ducked away from his intense stare and dropped his hand like I had been burned.

"Do you serve under Captain Mike, then?"

Mike laughed and clapped a hand on Erwin's shoulder, his green eyes dancing with mirth. "Oh, no. Erwin wouldn't dream of following anyone else's orders - isn't that right, Commander Smith?"

My eyes flew open as I realized who exactly I was speaking with, and Erwin huffed in annoyance and batted Mike away from him.

"Zacharias, I told you to keep quiet," he hissed. "Dhalis will skin me alive if he finds out I was down here."

"Aw, Sofia won't tell."

I was sure my blush deepened even further when Mike winked at me, but I winked right back at Erwin. "You can count on me, Commander," I promised cheekily.

"You ought to let us walk you home," Erwin said, avoiding my gaze and staring down the street. "It really isn't safe for a girl like you to be on her own down here.

I coughed a little awkwardly. "Not to shock you, Commander, but I've been living this way for a couple years now, and I've never run into any trouble."

"Besides almost getting beat up by those two men tonight?" I couldn't see his eyes beneath the hood that still covered them, but I was sure Erwin's eyebrow was cocked with incredulity.

"Well, I suppose that it does happen," I admitted. "But I wouldn't want to take up any more of your time. I'm sure you've got more important things to do."

"Erwin thinks it's time well spent if it ensures a citizen's safety," Mike said.

"Well, if Erwin thinks so..."

"I do. Where do you live?"

"Right now, it's -- there's a hotel, a couple blocks up the road," I said. "If you would be so kind as to accompany me."

"Of course. Allow me."

Mike extended his arm to me, and I took it. I felt a little thrill spark from the top of my head and trickle down to my toes as he tightened his arm and pulled me close to his side.

The closest hotel was perhaps three or four blocks north. We made short work of the walk, and before long I was staring up at the dark, sooty facade of the Lion's Arms Inn. I hoped it wouldn't be too expensive; I had only a few shillings on me.

"Well, here is where we say our goodbyes, Miss Arawen," Mike murmured.

I let go of his arm and faced Erwin. "Thank you again, for rescuing me back there," I said. "Perhaps we'll meet again sometime."

I couldn't read his thoughts in the small sliver of his face that I could see. "Perhaps."

I stepped into the front door of the inn and left the two scouts behind me. A blazing, desperate feeling almost made me turn back for one last look, but I stopped myself. Erwin Smith had kept his hood up the whole time. I had never gotten to see the color of his eyes.

POV: Erwin

Mike could see how unnerved I was by the girl.

First, I spotted how deep the hollows around her collarbone and beneath her cheekbones were, as if she hadn't had a good meal in a long time. Then, the way she carried herself - shoulders back, chin up, eyes sparkling like a succubus beneath heavy, half-closed lashes - lit a fire in the primal part of my brain. And last, I noticed how tightly she held onto Mike's arm, how the sight of it filled the pit of my stomach with a prickling, almost irksome, sensation.

Yes, I didn't like how she made me feel. It was distracting.

"Well, I'm off to bed," Mike yawned. We had made our way back aboveground, and the stars twinkled high above the rooftops. The Scout Regiment dormitory stood tall and silent before us.

"Get a good night's sleep, Mike. We ought to take advantage of these days we have on leave."

"Sure, Commander."

He knew exactly what he was doing. I remembered how Sofia had said that word and the fire inside me burned hotter again. I ran my finger over the top of the blades inside my holster.

"I'll be inside in a minute. I'm going for a walk."

"Don't be too long," Mike said, his eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared beneath his shaggy hair.

I paced down the street, leaving him behind me, and tried to wrench my thoughts back to a more respectable avenue. What I really needed was an ice-cold shower, but a walk would have to do - I didn't want to disrupt anyone at this late of an hour. My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth.

I was Commander of the Scout Regiment now. It was not the time for games or petty dalliances, surely not with a girl from the Underground with a sweet face and devil's eyes. Even as I tried to forget about her, though, it began to seem like all I could think about was how it would feel to hold her - how her lips would move to say my name, how her fingertips would feel buried in my hair.

It was just because I was lonely. I wanted to feel close to someone; now that I was on this pedestal with the title of "commander", I needed someone who could hold me for a little while and lie to me, saying everything would be all right.

I could rationalize the intent behind my desire for ages and still not come any closer to fulfilling it. My steps took me closer to the steps that led back to the Underground, and I let them.

Maybe it was fear. I pulled my hood down further and descended the stairs once again. Maybe it was loneliness. I retraced my steps, back to the Lion's Arms Inn. Maybe it was just plain lust. I ducked inside and sidled up to the front desk.

Whatever the reason, I found myself asking the clerk what room was Sofia Arawen's, where I could find her. I found myself making my way down the dim hallway to her door. I found myself knocking on it with a shaking fist.

When she opened the door, her dark eyes fluttered open in surprise to see me standing there. "Erwin Smith," she said.

"Sofia Arawen," I breathed.

She didn't say anything, but she knew why I was there. Her fingers were soft against my arm as she drew me inside, and I let her.

This close to her, I could smell the soft aroma of bourbon dancing off of her skin.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," I murmured. "You-"

The feel of her fingertip against my jaw stopped me short.

Both of our fires burned in unison as I tore my hood down and pulled her against me, our lips crashing against each other and everything disappearing into a thrum of heat and color. Nothing mattered to me in that moment. It was just me and her - and for a second, that was enough.

Chapter Text

"Well, it's over now."

It's been a week or so since we returned from the fated mission to retake Wall Maria, and about a week since Hanji and I visited Sofia Arawen. My days have been filled with too many conferences and meetings, writing letters and answering forgotten correspondence, that I haven't been able to give her much thought until now.

I lean against the banister of the balcony and glance over at Hanji, whose hands are stowed deep in the pockets of their coat. Their eyes are lined with grief and exhaustion, and I know that they're as emotionally wrung out as I am after the funeral ceremony. The medals hanging around both of our necks, sparkling in the setting sun, are small and unimportant circles of metal and jade compared to the ball of tears we've probably both been swallowing down all day. I don't envy Hanji; they've got a huge job now, trying to build up the Scout Regiment back to its former glory. They know everyone in the walls is looking at us now, watching and waiting for our next move, curious and desperate to see if we can pull through.

"Yes, it's over," I agree. "But now we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

Hanji bobs their head once. "I need to visit Keith Shadis, get a look at some of the cadets in the Training Corps."

"Do you think any new recruits will join the Scout Regiment? After what's just happened?"

"Shadis sent a letter that arrived just this morning. He said he had to start up a whole new division of the Training Corps to handle all of the volunteers who want to join up now - it seems our mission, failed or not, has inspired a lot of people." Hanji takes off their glasses, blows onto the lenses, and wipes them tiredly against their coat. "Shadis also said that some of the cadets who joined up are in their twenties or even in their thirties. It's not just teenagers who want to make a difference anymore."

"Odds are a lot of them want to join the Scouts," I mutter. Figures - I know all too many people with gallant hearts but a complete lack of brains, and all these new recruits must be no different. I wonder how long it will be before the majority of them quit the Training Corps and return home, bored of playing a hero after a little while.

"Hopefully they do join the Scouts. We need the men."

A sour taste coats my tongue, and I sneak another sideways look at Hanji. "You're not going to say anything about this to Sofia Arawen, are you?"

The girl would jump at the chance to join the Training Corps - anyone would in her position. But I'm not going to let that happen, not when it's almost guaranteed she'd be dead before the year's end.

Hanji sighs.

"I have to visit her again anyway, so I might mention it, yeah."

"Hanji, I swear, I'll slice you to ribbons," I snap.

"Levi, it could be her only way out of there. Besides, it's her life. I'm just giving her the information - it's her choice what she wants to do with it."

"Well, she won't even consider it at all if you don't give her any information! You stay away from her," I warn. "Let me take care of it."

"Like I said, I've got to see her anyway," they say.

"And why is that?"

"I've got something to speak with her about."

I know there's something they're not telling me. My neck itches around the collar of my coat; I'm not used to Hanji keeping secrets.

"And what is that something, pray tell?" I ask.

Hanji breathes out sharply through their nose and runs a hand through their ponytail. "It's a private matter between her and me."

If I'm not used to Hanji keeping secrets, I'm even less used to the somber and cold tone with which they now speak. Hanji is, and has always been, a bubbly, positive, if extremely aggravating beacon of hope for the entire Scout Regiment. Now, their voice is unusually contemplative, almost sorrowful, as if they're in a different universe from me. I wonder what it is they're keeping from me that could be causing such an abrupt change of character.

"I won't get mad, if that's what you're worried about," I reassure Hanji in an attempt to get them to open up. "You can tell me."

"You say that, but you would murder that girl if I told you."

"Hanji, I swore to keep her safe. I wouldn't likely do her harm - no matter the situation."

Hanji snorts. "Alright, Captain," they say doubtfully.

I frown but do not push them anymore. We both stare down at the stream of soldiers and devastated civilians still pouring out of the cathedral where the funeral service was held, watching as they step into waiting wagons and carriages and disappear into the streets beyond. How many people came to the ceremony? Too many to count - every family of every fallen soldier was invited to the royal cathedral for the service. Far too many to count.

"I need you to watch over the Regiment tonight then, Captain Ackerman," Hanji says at last. "Since I need to make a trip to the Underground."

"Dammit, Hanji," I mutter, but I know I can't ignore a direct order from my commander. "I can't come with you?"

They shake their head. "Who else would I leave in charge? Mikasa? Besides, it's like I said. I have something private to discuss with Sofia that I'm sure she wouldn't want another person privy to."

"I don't have to be in the room. I could just escort you."

"No." Hanji's voice is uncharacteristically firm. "And that's an order, Captain."

They pace away from the banister of the balcony, retreating back into the relative warmth of the palace behind us. I'm left alone to stare down at the trickle of people dispersing from the cathedral far below.

Frustration pulls the muscles of my shoulders taut, and my teeth grind together as I clench my jaw. It seems I'm failing at every promise I made to Erwin before he died - I couldn't kill the Beast Titan, and now I can't protect Sofia. It's pathetic, really. What good is being humanity's strongest soldier if I can't use my strength to save the people I love?

~~~~~

"Are you alright, Captain?"

I can't decide if Sasha Blaus is incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, trying to speak to me when it's clear I'm in a foul mood. I swirl my tea in my cup, lean back in the rickety kitchen chair, and squint up at her. In the dim light of the dining hall, her light brown eyes flash with the same slightly starved gleam they always do; it doesn't matter that we just finished eating. That girl could eat a whole goat and still complain of an empty stomach.

"I'm quite fine, Sasha," I reply and take a deep sip of tea.

"Are you sure? It's okay if you aren't. You can say if you aren't."

No, she isn't stupid or brave; she's just compassionate.

And extremely annoying, the exhausted, angry voice in the back of my head hisses. I try to ignore it and force myself to smile up at the young cadet.

"Well, none of us are fine, really, but it does no good to say it, does it?" I sigh. "Thank you for your concern, Cadet. You ought to get up to bed."

"If you're sure, sir."

My eyes follow her as she hops up the stairs that lead to the dormitories. I can feel the other cadets watching me nervously from their perches on the tables behind me, and that same wrothy voice in the back of my head dares one of them to speak up next. If it's Floch who ventures to say something, I might get to try out a new punching bag.

The silence in the dining hall is so thick I could cut it with a butter knife. The only sound is our breathing; I sip on my tea, feeling its warmth trickle down my throat and all the way down into my stomach.

"You all should go up to bed, too," I tell them, without turning around.

None of them protest, and they slink past me and follow Sasha up the stairs to their dormitories. That is, all of them do, except one. I don't see Armin among them, but I can still hear someone shifting on the creaky floorboards behind me.

"Arlelt, go on." My tone is a little more snappish then I would have liked.

"Actually, Captain, I - I wanted to say something first," Armin says. I can hear his voice trembling, whether from fear or embarrassment I can't tell.

I finish off my tea, closing my eyes. I haven't had the chance to talk with him since we got back; in fact, I've found myself avoiding his innocent blue eyes and childlike face. My decision to save him won't do him any favors in the long run. In fact, I've cursed him worse by saving him than by letting him die - he's still only got thirteen years, and those thirteen are sure to be filled with horrors and despair the likes of which none of us have ever seen.

"Go on then," I say, my tone cold. I don't want to be so frigid, but I'm afraid that if I show how much I really care, I'll break down into pieces that nobody will be able to pick up.

"I wanted to say thank you," Armin says.

My jaw barks in pain, muscles twitching. I place the cup on the table firmly even though my hand is shaking.

"Don't thank me, Arlelt."

Chapter Text

Asha ... give me your hand. The rocks are slippery.

Look, there were roses on the bank!

That's not a rose, little one, it's some other kind of flower.

Well, it's pretty anyway.

It is. Take my hand, okay?

Okay.

A knock at the door snaps me out of my dreamlike stupor. The vision of a golden, sunkissed stream and gently waving prairie grass dissipates from my mind's eye, making me sigh a little bit in longing. I don't know why I've been seeing it lately or hearing little snatches of conversation, but the sound of the little girl's voice and the glint of the peaceful sun on the water have become my only source of comfort in the midst of my grief.

"Sofia? Sofia, are you there?"

It's Hanji's voice. I shake myself properly awake and step out of bed, flinching as the icy floorboards shock my bare feet.

"I'm coming," I call out. My voice is hoarse and broken from how little I've been using it in the past few days.

I pull open the door to my room and let Hanji inside. I'm sure I look a mess; I've hardly had the energy to wash myself this past week, much less comb my hair or change my clothing. I have been wearing the same cotton nightgown for days, and though I've hardly left bed, my skin droops with tiredness.

Hanji's calm eyes betray no shock as they look over my disheveled state. I'm sure they've seen people in worse condition - my wound is only internal, nothing compared to the horrors of battle that they have faced. It takes more than some bedhead and a wrinkled nightgown to jolt them.

"Hello, Sofia. I hope you're doing well?"

I lift my shoulder in a weak half-shrug. "Well enough, I suppose."

"As well as can be expected, with what you've gone through." Hanji sighs and gives me a wan smile. "May I come in?"

"Of course, of course." I bolt aside to let them through the doorway.

I'm unsure of what time it is. I've spent the majority of my day lost in the hazy, golden dreamland of my subconscious, and I'd forgotten to rewind my cuckoo clock yesterday. It must be late, though; I can hear the tavern roaring with activity far below us.

"Please, you can sit. Is there something you needed to see me about?" I venture, gesturing towards the wooden chair next to my bed.

Hanji nods and takes a seat on the chair. "Yes. It's rather important, so I thought I'd come see you instead of sending a letter."

I sink down onto my bed. My hands tremble, whether from nervousness or excitement I cannot tell, and I sit without speaking, waiting for Hanji to continue with bated breath.

"I took it upon myself to look into Mike Zacharias's family records, specifically the addresses for his next of kin. It's required information for all Scouts to have, just in case family is needed to be notified... of certain events... or others," Hanji explains.

I nod in understanding. For death notices.

"At any rate, I was able to use the address to cross-reference with the census information available to me as a member of a government-based organization," they continue. "I found that Leah Langel, neé Zacharias, lives at the address provided as that of Captain Zacharias's next of kin, along with her husband and two other adults who I assume are her mother and father in law. In addition to that, there are five children included as members of the household, all from the ages two months to fifteen years. There was a four-year-old girl among them."

My heart leapt as I realize that could very well be my daughter. "Were the children's names listed in addition to the adults's?"

"Yes. The name of the girl was given as Asha Zacharias-Langel."

Hearing them confirm it, a gasp escapes from my throat, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, my lips curve into a smile. Asha Zacharias - if only I had given birth to her under different circumstances, ones that made her truly belong to Mike's name, truly belong to someone's family.

"That's what I told Mike to name her. That has to be her," I breathe.

"I was unsure at first, but if that is the name you claim to have given her, then I agree it is too much to be coincidental." Hanji's eyes glisten at my obvious joy. "What are the chances that the Langels have another daughter with the exact same name and the exact same age as your daughter? I did send Leah Langel a letter earlier in the week in order to absolutely confirm it, though, but I'm sure we won't see a response from her for at least a fortnight."

"Thank you, Hanji," I say, taking their hand in my own and squeezing it gratefully. "You've done more than enough to help me."

"I'm glad we could track the girl down. I'm not sure if the family will let you visit, but -"

"It's enough that I know she's safe and cared for somewhere. If Leah's anything like Mike - and I'm sure she is - then I know Asha is in the hands of a good woman. Her life is probably full of love, and that's more than I have the right to ask for," I whisper.

Hanji pats the top of my hand, a gentle if a bit awkward gesture, but I appreciate it nonetheless. "You brought her in to this world. It's only right, and only fair, that you would want the best for her."

"Thank you, Hanji," I repeat, too lost in my own ocean of joy and shame to create any other words.

"There is something else I wanted to talk to you about," Hanji says after a moment of silence.

"Of course. Anything."

"I'm not sure what your... plans for the future are, if you want to keep living and working down here or not. However, Captain Levi expressed an interest in helping you to leave the Underground, if that's what you choose," Hanji says.

"I do want to leave, yes."

"Excellent." Hanji grins. "Of course, getting the citizenship papers to make it all legal for you to live on the surface would take some time, as I'm sure you know, and of course there's also the question of how you would make a living once you became an aboveground citizen. That's where my and Levi's advice for you ... differ."

"I have a question first, Commander Hanji," I interrupt quickly.

"Fire away."

"If I were to - say - join the Training Corps, perhaps become a Scout. Would that guarantee me citizenship?"

Their eyebrows rise and are immediately hidden by their crest of auburn bangs. "Under normal circumstances, it would not. But I'm sure I can arrange it so that you would earn citizenship as soon as you join the military, as a special case."

"You seem surprised," I note, pressing my damp palms together.

"I am, a bit," Hanji admits. "I was going to suggest joining the Training Corps as a way out next - you just beat me to it! But at any rate, I'm sure we could fix it so that you would earn your citizenship by the time you complete corps training."

I sigh in relief.

"Of course, I should advise you - Captain Levi is strongly opposed to you joining the Training Corps at all."

"Why? It's not like he can stop me," I reply.

"He wants to protect you, that's all it is. You will just have to train hard and prove to him you can take care of yourself; he won't have a choice but to respect that."

I'm a bit shocked by their admission. From the chill front he exuded during our first meeting, I thought that Captain Levi did not like me much, maybe even hated me - I certainly didn't notice anywhere in his hostile stance the desire to protect me. Perhaps I misread him.

"I suppose it will be awkward, me with a bunch of young teenagers," I say after a pause. "The usual age to join up is 16, right?"

Hanji nods. "That brings me to what I wanted to tell you in the first place. Keith Shadis, the head of the Training Corps, has told me they're starting a brand new division of the 106th Training Corps just for young adults. It appears there are many individuals like yourself who see Erwin's sacrifice as something worth continuing to fight for, even if they are technically past the age of a normal recruit."

My heart swells with warmth and pride; even if it has destroyed me completely, Erwin's death was not for nothing. There was new life blooming from the blood that was spilled that morning - and I'm going to be a part of that new life. I have to be.

"That's a relief," I breathe. It's all I can manage around the hard knot that has formed in my throat.

"It is." Hanji rises to their feet and sighs to themself. "Well, I ought to get back to headquarters. It's been a long day."

"Thank you for taking the time to come see me," I say.

"Of course. It was nice to catch up - and I hope to see you sometime during your time in the Training Corps."

I grin. "I'm sure you will."

"Until we meet again, then, Sofia," Hanji says, and then they disappear through the door of my room. I am left alone in the shadowed, ramshackle space.

Without Hanji's bright, hopeful presence, I feel my grief and guilt press down upon me with familiar heaviness. I wish I could see the stars from here, but I'm far, far beneath their delicate pinpricks of soft silver light. I'm far beyond their grace.

Still, now there is something for me to accomplish. I have purpose, direction, a goal I need to achieve - and right now, the thought of that enough for me to pry myself out of my lethargy and drag myself across the room to my desk. I have a letter to write.

The ink in my inkwell is sludgy and thick from disuse, so I stir it continually while I search for a pen. Having located one whose tip is not too broken, I dip into the puddle of dark ink and pause, pen hovering over the surface of my paper.

What do I say? How do I begin? Who should I even address it to? I'm unsure of even how to start, and the road before me is daunting.

Once this letter is written and sent, seal broken and contents read, there will be no going back. The course of my life will irrevocably shift to a new direction. Am I sure this is what I want?

I stare at the room around me. Cobwebs dance in the corners, dust clogs the cracked panes of the solitary window. I'm sure if I looked hard enough, I could see the years of dirt and grime pressed into the boot-stripped floorboards, or the forgotten fingerprints left carelessly on the curved carvings of the bedpost; the doorknob shines from the rub of hundreds of palms. In the chest behind the door, a portrait lays sleeping - the portrait of a dead man whose eyes I still can't meet. No, I have to leave here. I can't live the rest of my life like this; I can't waste my heartbeats trapped below the surface of the land he died to save. This is what I want: to join the Scouts and fight for what he believed in.

I dip the tip of the pen into the ink again and start anew, not letting my doubts stop me this time.

Commander Keith Shadis -

I am a young woman who would like to join the Training Corps.

Once I start, I can't stop, and the letter pours out of me before any fear can quench its flow. I tell the Commander my age, my height, my weight, my reason for joining. I tell him that I know I might not last long, but I intend to do the very best I can.

I'm so engrossed in my work, I hardly hear someone enter the room. I look up to see Lailin watching me, her back pressed against the door.

"You're up," she notes, an encouraged smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"I am." I sign my name at the bottom of the page and squint at the marching trains of shiny black letters. My handwriting resembles, in all honesty, that of a child: broken, wobbly lines connected to uncertain curves, punctuated by harsh jabs of the pen. I flush a bit at how uneducated I will appear to Commander Shadis.

"You're writing to Captain Levi, or Commander Hanji?"

"No. Commander Shadis, of the Training Corps."

Lailin's eyes dip towards the floor, carving an arc of nervousness down to the splintered floorboards. "You really gonna go, then?"

I fold the letter decisively and place it into an envelope. "I am."

"Because I've been thinking - "

I glance over to her and am surprised to see that her smile has turned a little sad.

"I've been thinking I might join up, too," she says.

The shock renders me speechless for a moment, and I feel my own heartbeat still at my throat. Lailin, join the Training Corps? I know things aren't ideal for her - they're not ideal for any of us - but never before has she expressed the desperation to leave the Underground that I have. It's not like her to promise to risk her life like this, and I wonder if there's something up that's making her do so now.

"You - what?" is all I can say.

"I'm going to join the Training Corps, too."

"But - why?"

Lailin wrenches her gaze from the floor and meets my eyes. "Look, you've been worrying me lately, and if I'm honest I don't think it's good for you to be on your own."

I flinch, my pride stumbling beneath a whiplash of truth. I suppose I haven't been myself lately - hardly getting out of bed, refusing to work, only eating the bare minimum to stay alive - but I still want to labor under the delusion that I don't need anybody else to take care of me. Hearing Lailin say it out loud at last forces me to realize that I need somebody to lean on, especially now.

"I know it's not easy for you to admit that you need help, but I care about you, Sofia. You're the only person I got, and without you... there's nothing keeping me down here. Wherever you go, I'll go, too," she promises.

"It's not going to be easy," I warn. "I don't think I'll last very long."

Lailin flashes me her customary mischievous grin, and her grey eyes seem to sparkle even in the dim, starless gloom. "Who cares how long? But I'd feel a lot better if I was with you anyway."

"You really mean it?" Suddenly, the thought of taking someone familiar with me to a terrifying, lonely place is the only thing that's making it all worth it.

"Yeah, I do. So when do we leave, Cadet?"

Chapter Text

"Listen, Shadis, this is a mistake."

My blood seethes beneath my skin. Hanji and Keith Shadis regard me with varying degrees of wariness from the other end of the table as I rise from my chair and lean towards them. The last intense rays of the sunlight from near dusk slant through the large window at the head of his office, and I squint against it, furious.

"You can't let her in."

"With all due respect, Captain Ackerman -" Shadis squints down at the letter in front of him. "I hardly think you're in any position to deny her this chance."

I grit my teeth. "I'm not denying her anything. I'm just advising you, very strongly, against it."

"Please, enlighten us with your reasoning for doing so," Hanji says. They raise their eyebrows at me and lean back into their chair. I want to ignore them; it's their fault Sofia had the idea to write to Shadis in the first place. But Shadis stares at me, waiting for my response to the question, and I have to open my mouth.

"The only reason she wants to join is to gain her citizenship. It seems foolish to allow her to risk her life when there are other channels through which she can achieve the same goal," I explain. "I'm not against helping her, I simply believe there are better ways we can do so."

Shadis sighs. "I hardly have to remind you of the circumstances behind your own decision to join the Scout Regiment."

Hanji bobs their head in agreement, tossing me a pointed look. I could murder them right now, if only Shadis weren't in the room to report me to Commander Dhalis.

"That was a completely different situation," I growl.

"Not quite as much as you'd believe. What I see here," he says, lifting the letter, "is a woman desperate to improve her lot in life. Not only that, I see a woman who wants to make a difference in not only her life but the lives of others. I hardly think I - or you, really - have the right to deny her that chance."

"I don't believe that's why she wants to join," I huff, even though I know it's a lie.

"You don't? Allow me to read you her own words, then."

Shadis clears his throat and shakes out the crinkled piece of parchment. "Let me just skip down to... here we go. 'The loss of someone I care deeply about has inspired me to do what I can to further the cause. I don't care so much about the citizenship, although of course I can't deny that it would improve my quality of life significantly. However, my real reason for joining the Training Corps is because I believe I should do my part to help further our fight in saving humanity. I believe in the hope of mankind.' "

Dammit. It's almost as if she's quoting Erwin directly, with all of that "hope" and "for the cause" bullshit.

"Alright, so maybe she does have a good reason for joining," I concede. "But I still have problems with her joining, on a personal level."

Hanji sighs, echoing Shadis, and shakes their head. "Levi, I understand why you're against it, and I'm sure Shadis would too, if he knew the whole story. But I will ask you to stop here and not protest any further."

"Commander Hanji is right," Shadis says. "I'm not sure you should tell a superior officer how exactly you know a prostitute, as it is clear this girl is. I'm willing to turn a blind eye to her profession in order to recruit her, but your... personal connections with the girl, if any, might ruffle more than a few feathers."

I bite the inside of my cheek. He is right, in a way; I can't exactly explain my attachment to Sofia without also explaining that she was Erwin's lover. Doing so could ruin his reputation, could give his enemies fodder to destroy any last good trace of his legacy, even in death. I couldn't do that to Erwin. Not to mention I could face retribution or possible arrest if there's even the slightest hint that I could have been involved with her, too, even if there would be no weight to those rumors.

"I thought you listened to personal objections about recruitment?" I say instead.

"Ordinarily, I would listen to what concerns family members have about their loved one joining up, but I don't see that type of relation between you and this girl. I called you up here because Miss Arawen hints in this letter that she was involved in some way with a member of the Scout Regiment that was recently lost, and I wanted your opinion on how to handle her recruitment. That's all. Unless you are prepared to explain the entirety of the situation to me, including her personal significance to you, I suggest you let the matter drop."

Well, I'm defeated at last. Wrath burns thick in my belly as I sink back down into my seat, but he's backed me into a corner. I can't protest any more.

"Alright, now that that's settled..." Hanji says, uncrossing their arms. "There's another matter we need to discuss."

Shadis leaned back in his chair and bobbed his head, allowing them to continue.

"I have yet to speak to Commander Zackly, but - I thought I'd mention this to you, Shadis. We need to be on the lookout for further spies within the Training Corps."

Shadis cocks his head and frowns. "Further spies? You mean you expect the enemy to attempt to infiltrate the Walls again?"

I'm with Shadis. I can hardly picture the enemy putting more of their soldiers into danger, especially after they lost two Titan Warriors in their first attempt. It's a devastating blow, and it must scare them to know that we now control four of the nine Titan shifters, although we only have three in active use.

"You really think they'll send another Warrior?" I ask, my tone dripping with doubt. "It doesn't make much strategic sense."

"I do." Hanji's eyes harden, and the temperature of the room drops beneath their cold gaze. "It would be an unexpected move, so soon after the failure of their last attempt, but we need to be prepared for anything. They might try again so soon simply because they think we won't be ready for it."

"And, really, with the influx of new recruits, it would be the perfect time to slip a spy or two past unnoticed," Shadis remarks, almost as if to himself.

"But still," I interrupt. "Why would they attempt to infiltrate again? I don't see a good reason for them to take such a risk."

Hanji's cold eyes bore into my own, and I'm shocked at the serious and grave reflection of myself I see back in them. "They still don't have the Founding Titan, which was their primary goal with the last invasion. If they're as desperate as I think they are to retrieve it, they'll attack us again, mark my words."

"You really think they're that desperate?" Shadis asks.

"Yes. Didn't they massacre hundreds, thousands of civilians, and almost my entire Regiment, just for that purpose?" Hanji's voice shakes with anger. "I've seen firsthand how much they're willing to sacrifice."

I think of all the people who lost their lives the day Wall Maria fell. Of all the Scouts who saw death in a titan's jaws, in the jagged edges of a boulder, in the overwhelming heat of a near-atomic explosion. Hanji and I have both seen it firsthand - again and again, over and over - the vast expense of life the enemy was willing to pay in order to achieve their goal. If they were willing to go so far as to commit such atrocities, there was no way we can predict their next move.

"I hate to admit it, but Hanji's right. We have to be prepared for anything, even if it seems unlikely," I say at last.

Hanji flashes me a small, grateful smile.

"I suppose it won't do any harm to keep an eye out," Shadis sighs. He pushes himself to his feet, and Hanji and I follow suit. "I'll keep in regular correspondence with you about this matter."

"That would be good. And also, if you could -" Hanji glances at me for a split second. "- update us on how Sofia Arawen gets on. Captain Levi and I both would like to know."

Shadis nods. "Of course. And if any of you are ever free, I would like you to lead some training exercises as well. I'd like the cadets to see a greater range of commanding officers and command styles from different Regiments."

"Just tell me when to be there, and I'll do the best I can."

"Thank you, Commander Hanji." He places his upturned fist over his heart in salute. We both mimic the gesture, and I bow my head to the superior officer.

"Well, see you then, Commander Shadis."

"Until then."

He lets us find our own way out of the office, which we do easily. I can't count how many times I've found myself here, at the Training Corps headquarters in the Capitol, listening to progress reports of various cadets and picking up profiles of new Scout Regiment recruits. But this trip is noticeably different. It's the first time I've been here without walking through the doors at Erwin's side.

Hanji picks up on my contemplative expression, their eyes flicking to me every couple of steps. They've lost the intense, chilling pessimism that controlled them back in Shadis' office, but their shoulders still hunch, their glasses no longer glinting with the wild, unbridled enthusiasm they always used to. They've lost the happy spark that used to drive them; I've noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks since we returned from Shiganshina.

"You should take a break, Hanji," I say as we step out of the headquarters and onto the golden street. Through the canyon of tall townhouses, the fiery red sunset burns at the horizon.

"A break? Are you joking?" They laugh bitterly and shake their head. "I can't afford to. You know as well as I that we can't stall forward progress just because we lost so many. They wouldn't want us to."

"They wouldn't want you to work yourself to death, either, but don't listen to me," I mutter.

"I appreciate your concern, Levi. Really, I do," they say. "But right now we need to stay vigilant. There's a lot we need to get done before the 105th Training Corps graduates."

"Humph. Right. I hope they never graduate."

"Why?"

"Because you strong-armed Shadis into letting Sofia join, that's why."

"I did not strong-arm anyone," Hanji scoffs. "I presented the available information, and Shadis made up his own mind."

"Right. Well, you're still the one who planted the idea in her head in the first place," I grumble.

"I already told you. She said she was going to join up before I even suggested it. I had about as much of a hand in her decision as a baked potato."

I sigh. "I guess there's still hope that she'll drop out before she completes training."

"You ought to give her more credit!" Hanji protests. "What she's lacking in physical strength she's got in mental fortitude - she's not one to quit once she's put her mind to something, that's for sure."

We've reached the Scout Regiment dormitory. I glance upwards at the topmost row of windows, watching the last beams of sunlight paint them in hues of orange and red, and sigh to myself in frustration.

"Perhaps it'd be better if she would."

Chapter Text

A week after I send the letter to Shadis, his response arrives.

Miss Arawen -

After careful review, the Training Corps has agreed to take you on as a trainee. Please report to the Southern Division Training Grounds in a fortnight to begin your training. A member of the Military Police will be sent to collect both you and your friend from the Underground.

Good luck.

- Commander Keith Shadis

I spend the following weeks preparing to leave the Underground once and for all. It's strange, really - most of me is grateful that I will never have to breathe in the rank, damp air ever again, or squint through the constant semi-darkness that coats everything like tangible coal dust. But part of me mourns the loss of the place that, though it may be horrible, has been my only home. My mom died here. I met Erwin here. Asha was born here.

Even as the memories congeal like sweet, slightly bitter jam across my mind's eye, I remind myself that all three of them - my mother, Erwin, and Asha - would support my decision to leave. They would want me to survive, and I can't survive down here any longer.

On the morning that Lailin and I are set to leave, the girls in the brothel bid us a tearful goodbye. Some of them regard us with cold jealousy carved into their frowns, but most weep from the sorrow of not being able to see us again. For the time we lived at the brothel, we all became like sisters; leaving them behind kills me a bit inside.

I hug them all, including Uncle Abraham, and allow my embrace to linger especially around the younger girls, the teenagers. I remember when I was like them, just a handful of years ago - when my heart didn't lay so heavy in my chest, and my perspective wasn't tainted with blood spilled in far-away wars. Still, I want them to know there is hope, even though part of me has been irreversibly broken. They too can escape one day.

Once we've finished our goodbyes, the Military Policeman leads us to the nearest stairway up to the surface. He flashes a pair of identification certificates at the policeman who guards it, and we are allowed up. My heart thrills in my chest. It's the first time I've actually been allowed up to the surface legally.

A carriage is waiting to take us to the Southern Division Training Grounds. I'm not sure how long it will take to get there - all I know is that it's out past Ehrmich District, on the southern border of Wall Sina - perhaps 250 kilometers from where we are currently.

The sun peeks over the extreme edge of the horizon, and my breath mists in the cool, early morning air. I shiver and pull my satchel, full of all my worldly possessions, close to my chest. The Military Policeman helps us into the carriage, but he doesn't join us. I feel Lailin's warm, shaking hand encircle my own as we pull out of the city.

In the end, the journey takes most of the morning, and we don't arrive at the training grounds until almost noon.

The carriage rumbles down a mountainous road into a sort of gorge that has been carved into the rocky surface of the ground. Cabins line the outer walls of the gorge, and a tall wooden watchtower stands sentinel at the entrance. On the east side of the gorge, prairie grass and tall trees extend as far as I can see. Crags of rock and rugged terrain push towards the sky on the three other sides.

When the carriage pulls up next to the line of cabins, Commander Shadis himself waits to greet us.

"Sofia Arawen and Lailin Macintosh," he growls as Lailin and I disembark. "Nice to meet you both."

Neither Lailin or I know quite how to salute him, so I settle on inclining my head slightly with respect. The dark hollows around his eyes unsettle me.

"Nice to meet you too, sir. Thank you for accommodating us," I reply.

The lines in his brow deepen. "Of course. But don't think this is just an easy way out of the Underground - I expect just as much out of you as any other soldier here. Do you both understand?"

Lailin glances sideways at me with wide eyes. "Yes sir," we say in unison.

"Good." He raises his thin eyebrows and juts his thumb over his shoulder towards the second cabin in the line. "That's the cabin you've been assigned. You'll be sharing it with about fifteen other people, so don't take up too much space. There should be a pile of uniform jackets, pants, and shirts in the middle of the room. Pick whatever fits."

"Yes sir," we repeat.

"And hop to it. I want to assign formation at 1200 hours. It's about a quarter-to now."

"Yes sir." I get the feeling me and Lailin both will be saying little else for the next six months.

As soon as our backs have been turned to Shadis, Lailin bends close to my ear and begins to whisper furiously.

"Geez, he's a no-bullshit guy, huh? And here I thought all military men were really softies at heart."

"Lailin, the only military men you've ever dealt with are washed up drunks who are so desperate for attention they pay you to spend time with them," I remind her, keeping my voice low.

"That's not true!" Lailin protests. "I've had a few very nice young men who were so kind-hearted they even offered to marry me. Not washed up or desperate at all, but still soft."

"Well, they were all Military Police or Garrison soldiers anyway. Of course they're soft."

Lailin sighs. "Goodness, you're right. I suppose this Shadis character is going to turn out to be quite the thorn in my side."

"Don't antagonize him and you should be fine," I advise, pulling open the rickety door of the cabin to let her in.

Inside, a group of around thirteen women bustle about in various states of undress. They toss each other shirts and exchange pairs of pants, chattering introductions and commenting on the fit of the clothing. I immediately feel at home; the majority of them look to be in their teens, but there are a couple who seem to be closer to my age. None of them glare or anything when we step inside, so I don't feel particularly unwelcome either.

"Welcome, welcome!" an older woman shouts to me and Lailin. "Just grab whatever, it's just a free-for-all."

I flash a smile at her (the movement still feels foreign) and let my satchel fall to the floor. "Does it matter which bunk we put our stuff by?" I ask above the din.

"That one closest to the door's the only one still empty! The rest have been claimed already," she calls back.

Lailin immediately scampers up to the top bunk, and I push my satchel over to the bottom one with my foot. Of course no one wanted this bed - it's right by the door, so there's no privacy whatever and it's sure to be drafty - but it's loads better than the cold, dusty old room I occupied at the brothel. Even the mattress is softer, somehow, even though it's military grade.

I duck into the fray at the center of the long room and reach for the nearest blouse and pair of pants. I strip off my old dress to pull them on, and luckily, they fit fairly well on the first go. The blouse is a bit long, but it'll be tucked in anyway. I leave the top couple buttons undone, smoothing the collar down to lie flat across my shoulders.

"Don't forget a belt!" a girl next to me chirps. She tosses me a tangle of leather straps, and I barely manage to catch it. I grin at her in thanks.

I glance around me at the other girls, and notice that it's supposed to criss-cross around my chest and thighs. There are three separate pieces, actually, one that goes around my waist and up over my shoulders, with a sheet of leather that spans my back, and two that strap around my upper thighs and slant down around my knees, to support the joint, I guess. I loop them on and turn around to help Lailin with hers. She stares at me with wide eyes.

"What?" I say, reaching down to tighten the loops around her legs.

"You look like such a soldier," she comments. "It's weird. Almost like you're playing dress-up."

I lift one of my shoulders in a half-shrug. "Well, get used to it. We'll be wearing this from now on."

"You're adapting to this easier than I am."

I clench my teeth around the soft inside of my cheek. I'm still a little shocked that Lailin has stuck to her decision to accompany me so far, and I almost wish she hadn't. I want someone to be able to remember me as I used to be. The soldier that's fastening Lailin's belt now is not the same woman who left the brothel this morning - I abandoned her as soon as I turned my back on the Underground. Erwin's death was the catalyst for this metamorphosis, and right now it's too early to tell if I'll come to regret it. I wish Lailin didn't have to see it, just in case I do.

"Sure, but I kind of knew what to expect," is all I say.

"Everyone! It's almost noon," someone yells. "Grab your jackets and let's hurry outside."

"Yeah, we better hurry, or I have a feeling Shadis will give us a nice tongue-lashing," Lailin mutters darkly, scooping up two light brown jackets from the pile and handing me one.

I trace my finger over the emblem of crossed swords embroidered on the left breast pocket. It's not the same one that Erwin's jacket bore - the wings of freedom - but it's similar enough to make the heartbeat in my throat ache more painfully. I slide the jacket over my shoulders without another word.

Outside, the inhabitants of the rest of the cabins are beginning to assemble in the clear area of dirt in the center of the camp. Commander Shadis stands at the head of them all on a small wooden platform, his arms crossed and his sharp frown evident even from this far away.

"Everyone, line up in front of me!" he bellows, his voice echoing around the shallow gully. "And hop to it! Anyone who's not in front of me in the next fifteen seconds has to run four laps around camp!"

He doesn't have to say it twice. The entire regiment falls into line before him well within the time limit.

"I'm going to be assigning formation now. You'll be expected to find your spots in formation every morning at 6 AM sharp, as well as before you're dismissed for lunch and lights out," Shadis says. "I will be setting a new formation every month, just to keep you on your toes, and it will never be alphabetical. Get used to not relying on patterns. Do you all understand me?"

Nobody utters a word, though a few people bob their heads nervously.

"Right, so let's get started. Ferrence Kars! You're the head of the first line. Maxwell Hughes, behind him. Isla Larson, after that -"

He goes down his list of names, placing us into fifteen lines of ten across. I'm near the front, next to a woman from my cabin and man I don't know yet.

I survey the man out of the corner of my eye. His choppy blond hair falls strangely over his forehead, in a decidedly unattractive way, and his cheeks bear tiny scratches and gouges, as if he just shaved off a thick beard. He's definitely one of the older recruits - he's probably twenty-five or twenty-six. He squints through a pair of rectangular glasses and fiddles with them uncomfortably.

He must sense me staring at him, because he turns his head to meet my gaze. When our eyes meet, a jolt of boiling electricity shoots through my entire body. I bite my lip to keep from crying out from the genuine pain and wrench my head away from him.

"What's your name, kid?" he asks me, sounding amused. His voice is deep and slow, as if he is unbothered by as juvenile a concept as time.

"Oh! I'm Sofia Arawen," I reply, embarrassed for some reason. "And I'm hardly a kid, so..."

"I apologize, of course you're not." He reaches out his hand. "I'm Xander Jackson. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Sorry for staring at you," I say, taking his hand. At once the terrible, hot flash slashes through my muscles again, and I shudder involuntarily.

He doesn't seem to notice. "That's all right. I suppose that's what a good soldier would do, sizing up her surroundings."

"Maybe a good soldier, but not a polite one. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Soldiers! Jackson and Arawen!" Shadis' earsplitting bark jerks our attention away from each other. I snap to face the front, my ears burning at being caught slacking off.

Shadis glares down at the two of us. "Since you're so busy discussing something, I'll have you start off the introductions. Name!" He stabs his finger towards Xander.

"Xander Jackson, sir," Xander says smoothly, placing his right fist over his heart.

"What was that? Say it loud enough so even the back row can hear you. Again!"

"Xander Jackson! Sir!"

"And why do you want to be a soldier?"

A couple of people snort in surprise or derision at the heavy question. It appears Shadis doesn't hold back.

Xander remains unfazed, his arm still curled in a salute. "I want to give meaning to the lives of the soldiers who died at Shiganshina, sir."

"What a bunch of sentimental bullshit."

To my surprise, Xander smiles at this. It almost makes him attractive; I flick my eyes towards the ground.

"If you say so, sir."

Shadis grunts. "Next!" he growls, jutting his chin out at me.

"Sofia Arawen!" I call out as loud as I can and salute.

"Why do you want to be a soldier, Arawen?"

Beneath my upturned fist, my heart shakes in my chest. I look up at Shadis and hold his gaze, resolve tightening the muscles in my jaw.

"There's a world I want to build, and there's something I have to prove."

Chapter Text

August 845

POV: Sofia

Late summer. The aroma of peonies and strawberries wafted down from the sewer grates, but beneath the ground we breathed in the deadly damp air. Not as cold as the bitter winters, but still far below the reach of the sunbeams that warmed the earth above.

It had been perhaps three months since our first meeting, and Erwin and I had fallen into a comfortable routine. He used to visit me two to three times a week, whenever he could spare the time, when things weren't too busy with the Regiment. In retrospect, it was eerie how seamlessly we wove each other into our lives, even though at the beginning we told each other it was strictly a business deal. I got the money, he got the release -- our relationship consisted of mutual benefit without emotional murk.

His friend - Captain Mike Zacharias - would visit me occasionally, although not near as often as Erwin did. Erwin was one of the only men I saw during that time, and soon he began to linger in my mind long after he'd left my bed. I would scold myself, telling myself to snap out of it, but each visit strengthened the impression he'd left on my subconscious. He inserted himself into my dreams, bled out into my waking hours, lingered on during the hours we were apart. I ignored the signs at first. In truth, life was easier when I didn't have to worry about the version of me that existed in someone else's heart, or keeping him alive in mine. I don't think I would have admitted my sin to him if he hadn't confessed his to me first.

That night, he came to me later than usual. I had found a place at a smaller brothel by that time, above a tavern called The Spry Cat, so normally he would arrive early, before any other customers had the chance to request my services from the bartender. I never knew what night he would come, and thus I couldn't give up a night's work on the off chance he might appear.

I waited near the stairs and fanned myself with my hand. Each time the door opened, a deliciously cool draft of air blew in, but for the most part the small barroom, crammed with people, lay heavy with heat. I had tied my hair back with a ribbon to fend off the moisture that coated my temples and neck.

I checked the clock hanging above the bar: nearly a quarter after midnight. If I didn't catch a customer in the next hour or so, I'd have to chalk the night up as a failure.

Across the room, I spotted my new friend Lailin Macintosh chatting with an older gentleman who was clearly deep in his cups. He swayed a little on his stool, and she tittered as he grabbed her arm to steady himself. His hand was already drifting towards his pocketbook; she'd caught him for sure.

Still fanning myself, I scanned the barroom, scouting for a potential customer. All of the men appeared to be occupied either with another girl or a large tankard of mead, and I felt my stomach begin to curdle with desperation. I had to pay for my room that night somehow - I couldn't afford to lose money again.

Just as I was about to take my chances with one of the grumpy drunks at the counter, the door creaked open again, bell clanging over the din of conversation. The tightness released its grip around my heart as I found his eyes. He was here! The relief is too much, too evident, I hissed at myself. Don't be so obvious.

He found me at once. "You're free?" he murmured.

I ignored the thrill in my heart. "Yes," I affirmed, allowing him to wrap his arm securely around my waist. His musky scent, warm and thick, wreathed about my head and made me dizzy; his hair lay mussed on his brow.

I led him up to my room without another word. He knew the way, of course; he'd been here many times.

He paid me beforehand, twelve silver coins. Far too much, in my opinion, but selfishly I appreciated that it could tide me over for the next few days. It would cover my rooming fee easily.

"Are you tired? Hard day?" I asked as I let him unlace the back of my dress. I traced my fingers down the buttons on the front of his shirt, counting them. Eight.

"I suppose," he replied. "I couldn't stop - all I could think about was you. If I'm honest."

I slipped the first button free from its buttonhole. "Could you tell I was waiting, wishing you'd come? I wanted you, too."

"I hoped so."

He ran his hand down my ponytail, tugging at the ribbon that tied it back, and let my hair tumble free. I blushed; I didn't want him to feel how sweaty and flushed I was from the heat of the barroom.

"I like it when I get to let your hair down," he whispered, and I shivered at the rumble that emanated up the fingertips I had pressed against his chest. "I love it when you look at me like this."

That night I thought I tasted more urgency in his kiss, felt more desperation in his embrace, heard his groan at the world crashing down around us, and for the first time the both of us emerged into the blissful haze of afterness feeling free. Had we achieved it? For some reason it felt different for me that night, moreso than it ever had. I had completed the motions hundreds of times before, dozens just with him. But this time I sensed the promise of vulnerability in both of our caresses. It was a connection -- it transcended the actions we had been used to. After we played among the stars, where had we landed?

It left me breathless, curled against the hard and soft lines of his shoulder and chest, head tucked into the crook of his neck, his hand draped across my bare thigh. I felt the words scrape at the inside of my throat again, riper than ever, but again I swallowed them back. I didn't want to ruin the moment.

His heart beat in time with mine beneath my palm.

"Sofia."

Neither of us moved; my breathing ceased at the uncharacteristically tender resonance of his voice.

"I'm in love with you."

Never had relief tasted so sweet to me. Relief, and joy. Erwin Smith loved me - was in love with me?! If I hadn't loved him back so truly, perhaps I would have laughed at the insanity of it.

Instead, I buried my face in his chest and pulled myself even nearer to him. His hand tightened around my thigh, his breath hitched as our skin came into closer contact. Maybe I wept a little - I can't recall - now, I only remember the saccharine euphoria of that moment. All I knew was there was no longer any reason to fear the storm brewing in my heart.

"Thank God," I breathed. "Oh, thank God."

POV: Mike

I'd noticed Erwin's sudden nightly absences, though no one else seemed to. I was his right-hand man, his confidant, when it suited him. The man was good at keeping secrets, especially from cadets who didn't know him that well. That unforthcoming tendency had only strengthened after he became commander.

I supposed we'd been going to the same place. I'd visited Sofia Arawen, too, a couple of times. I could appreciate her intoxicating scent, her captivating devil's eyes. She was a cunning vixen, but that's what drew the both of us to her. To lie by her side, even for one night: it would fill my thoughts for days afterward. But I'm sure I hardly ever crossed her mind. Afterward.

One particular morning, I remember, Erwin arrived at early muster with bloodshot, tired eyes but an aura of otherworldliness. He wasn't even attempting to be subtle about it, and I saw Captain Levi shoot him a suspicious look.

Nanaba leaned over to me. "Well, he sure looks cheerful," she commented. "Any idea what's gotten into him?"

I shrugged.

"Maybe the new government budget?" Gelgar suggested. "I heard we were allocated funding for another expedition outside the Walls."

Nanaba nodded. "Could be, actually. Weren't you just discussing that with him yesterday, Mike?"

"Yes. The meeting with Premier Zachary went long," I said.

"And I'm sure he spent the rest of the night plotting away. Look at how tired he is." She jutted her chin out at the commander.

"Unless he's got a lover," Gelgar said.

We stared at each other for a moment. Then, he and Nanaba burst out laughing.

"Can you imagine? Commander Erwin?" she chuckled.

Gelgar shook his head. "Nah, I knew it was a stretch."

"Right," I agreed, gritting my teeth.

"Mike!"

Erwin's shout startled all three of us, and we immediately sprung back to attention. I clenched my right fist over my heart in a salute.

"Yes, sir."

"I need your opinion on a couple things regarding last night's meeting. Come to my office as soon as you can."

"I can come now."

"Great. Follow me, then."

I surveyed him out of the corner of my eye as we headed in the direction of his office. I didn't want to speak to him about Sofia - I didn't want to infringe on his privacy - but part of me wondered if anything good could come out of an entanglement between them. If he was going to be this obvious about it, though, I needed to give him a little advice.

"You're still seeing her, then?"

"What?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"That Arawen piece. You must have gone to see her last night."

He glanced away from me and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I can admit it to you," he sighed. "Yes, I did. You obviously know to keep it quiet."

"Not to sound impertinent, but - " I frowned. "Shouldn't you be trying a little harder to hide it? I don't have to remind you of how big a scandal it would be if you were found out."

"You're right, of course."

Emboldened, I pressed on. "Forget even trying to hide it, you should stop seeing her at all. Eliminate the risk entirely, that's the wisest thing to do," I advised. "I know it won't be ... easy, but in the end you've got to think about what's best for you."

"I can't."

I nearly stopped clean in my tracks at the icy tone of his voice. Cool and clipped, as if he had just made the most logical declaration in the world, instead of just the opposite. Then, I saw it - there was a fire burning in his eyes, a hot blue flame whose inner ember was made of pure joy. My heart sank as I realized what that meant. He was in love with her.

The bitter anger that rose to my tongue surprised me in its intensity, and the urge to punch him in the gut loomed above me, a retaliatory instinct.

"Really? Why?" I challenged him, despite knowing exactly the reason.

"Don't make me spell it out for you, Mike."

"You mean, don't make you admit it." I struggled, in vain, to keep the venom out of my voice. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

He sighed. "Yes, alright, I am. I thought you'd understand most of all, but it appears I was mistaken."

"I don't misunderstand you," I said. "I could forgive a few visits here and there. But seeing her on a constant basis? I guess it's true what they say - love does drive you mad."

"Don't tease me." His tone was sharp. "Believe me, I'd just as rather not be in this situation. But you know how - when I - when she - when her eyes --"

"When she looks at you like that. Yes, I know," I muttered.

I could see her in my mind's eye then, the flirtatious flutter of her lashes, the lustful stars in her irises. Not even the Commander of the Scouts could resist that. For the first time I was forced to reconcile with the reality that Erwin was only human, too.

"I know it's completely mad. There's no need to remind me." The hard line of his jaw could've cut stone. "But Mike, there's a part of me - a selfish part, to be sure - that wants to hold on for this as long as I can. When I'm with her, it's as if ... I remember why I'm still living. She's my reason."

Was it wrong that I couldn't fault him? Perhaps if I'd been more insistent then, that he cut it off - none of us would have felt the scalding agony that came later. It would ruin us.

"If you're willing to risk everything you've built -- your life, your career, then -- be my guest." I stepped around him into his office, disgust filling my stomach with what felt like molten wax. "It doesn't matter to me."

Chapter Text

"Ah, Levi, meet me in my office. Shadis sent a letter."

The other seven cadets look up at me with expressions of interest. Blaus has porridge smeared on her right cheek, but even she stops eating to stare at the letter in my hand.

"Good news?" Armin ventures, cocking his head at me.

"Sure. Good enough for now," I reply. "You all eat up. We've got another audience with Zachary this morning, so I'm not sure if we'll have a break for lunch."

Eren frowns darkly into his bowl of porridge.

Levi hasn't said anything yet, but I feel his angry eyes burning the letter in my hand. He knows as well as I do that training started two weeks ago, and Sofia Arawen is probably training at this very moment. I wonder what Shadis thinks of her. Honestly, I wonder what she thinks of Shadis! But Levi still hasn't quite forgiven me for suggesting that she join up in the first place, so I keep the amusement from showing on my face.

"Right, Hanji, do you want to talk now, or do you want to wave that thing around for a couple more minutes?" he gripes at last, jutting his chin out at the letter.

"Let's go now," I sigh. Jeez, someone needed to put a bit more sugar in his tea this morning.

He follows me up the stairs to my office on the first floor. Outside, a light rain washes across the pale grey cobblestones and patters gently against the thick windowpanes. Bookshelves loom up three of the four walls. Their contents spill out haphazardly: a couple of notebooks here, a jar of mysteriously fascinating fluid there. Above, candles from the undecorated chandelier hanging from the ceiling cast a faint glow on the multiple worktables, which are strewn with notes and open scientific journals. I breathe in the comforting, if slightly musky, scent of old books and close the heavy oak door behind Levi.

Someone has opened the window above my desk a crack, and the delicious aroma of late summer rain drifts around the dark space. For a moment I'm reminded of Moblit, my research assistant. He had been my closest companion, my advisor, and in many ways, my protector. He always used to open the window for me, during my intense research sessions when I wouldn't leave my office for days on end.

You need at least some fresh air, Hanji, he would say. I can see his furrowed brow and outstretched, worried arms even now. His kindness and amicability etched into every exasperated sigh: When was the last time you ate? Did you sleep at all last night? Hanji, please, I really need you to take care of yourself.

My heart aches. I cross the room ahead of Levi to wrench the window shut.

"Alright, so, what's in the letter?" he asks me, no doubt noticing that I'm hiding my face from him and trying to steer me back on track again.

"Right." I clear my throat, sink into my desk chair, and unfold the letter on the desktop. Shadis' rushed, slanting writing barks up at the two of us from the first page. "It's good news, I think! Shadis says she's getting right on with training."

Levi cocks one eyebrow. "He really said that? Read me the line."

I huff to myself as I trace down the letter, searching for the sentence. Levi would be so picky. "Here: 'Miss Arawen is doing fine. She struggled a bit with the physical workload at the beginning, but, of course, that's to be expected. She will make a fine soldier in time.' "

"Fine soldier, my ass," Levi growls.

"Isn't it a bit unfair to declare the odds against her before she's really even had a chance to begin?" I say. "If Shadis thinks she's promising, then that should be enough for you. He's not averse to calling out a lost cause if he thinks there is one, you know. He wouldn't be so optimistic if he didn't think Sofia could handle it."

"You're right, I suppose," Levi sighs, but he doesn't sound pleased with the admission. "What else does he write?"

I flip the page over and scan the back. "It seems that she's getting along well with the other cadets. And remember her friend from the Underground - what was her name - Lailin? Yes, that's it. She's doing well, too, but you can tell she annoys Shadis from the way he describes her." I chuckle. " 'The other girl, Lailin Macintosh, is rather too upbeat, especially at early muster. She needs to learn to keep her mouth closed and her ears open. However, I expect she will also graduate just fine.' "

At that, the corner of Levi's mouth twitches. "Well, there always has to be the one cadet that Shadis likes to pick on. It can't be helped."

I smile. "So, there. You see she's doing just fine with training."

"Just say 'I told you so' and let's move on," Levi grumbles, but I catch his quiet sigh of relief. Sofia's success in the Training Corps means that she might have the chance to join the Military Police, and that's his best-case scenario right now.

"Oh, and I should mention," I add, rereading the last few lines of the letter. "Shadis wants the two of us to come to the camp in a month to lead a training exercise. Can you swing it?"

"I should be able to make it, as long as you don't send me somewhere." Levi breaks eye contact with me and stares out the window, at the rain still falling on the street outside.

"I'll make sure not to. It'll be the second week of October, Shadis says."

"Wonderful. Also, I thought I'd ask, while it's just the two of us here -" Levi snaps his gaze back to me. "I noticed you asked for a couple days of leave next week."

My stomach immediately sinks; he's onto me. I'd requested the days off in order to make the trip up to the Langel farm, where -- hopefully -- I'll be able to find Sofia and Erwin's daughter. I should have known my absence would tickle Levi's insatiable curiosity.

"I did," I affirm with a nod.

"And you told Premier Zackly it was to pay a visit to ... a Mrs. Langel? Who is that?"

Ah, shit. I'm sweating a bit beneath the collar of my shirt. Yes, he has definitely found me out - but I suppose it won't hurt to let the cat out of the bag now. Sofia is safe from his guaranteed wrath, a hundred or so miles from our current location. I decide not to think about how I'm not.

I glance down at my lap, anxiously twiddling my thumbs. "She's ... um ... She's Mike Zacharias' sister."

"Why do you need to see her now? Mike's been dead for months," Levi notes dispassionately.

"It's not about Mike," I say. "It concerns Sofia."

His frown deepens, and I shift backwards in my chair. "Sofia? What kind of connection does she have with Mike Zacharias' sister? Or with Mike, for that matter?"

"I'm not quite sure why she chose Mike's family in particular." I have my theories, of course, and I dare not bring them up now. "But that's where Sofia's daughter is."

"Her ... daughter?"

I cringe away from Levi's cold tone, but he stands oddly still. His grey eyes remain impassive and blank. Calm, even. Confused, I relax my tensed shoulders and glance up at him.

"Yeah, I -- thought you'd take it worse than this?"

"Why would I care if she had a daughter?" Levi stares at me, his brow knitting together over his nose. "It's to be expected, of course."

"Just so you know, she's fairly certain it's Erwin's child." Suddenly, I want more of a reaction from him, because his composed acceptance of such an earth-shattering fact is making me feel quite stupid for keeping it from him.

"Okay." He betrays a little more surprise at that. "I suppose it makes a little more sense that the kid's with Mike's family, then. He was Erwin's right-hand man and all that."

"That is true, and -- hold on, why aren't you angry? I thought you'd be angry!"

"Again, Hanji," Levi says, releasing a rare chuckle under his breath. "You act like I'm all emotion and no logic. They'd been sleeping together for years -- the chances of them having a kid together at some point are pretty high. I figured something like this might happen."

"I - uh - you're right." It always surprises me how Levi is able to completely detach himself from sentiment -- to factor the birth of a child down to odds. For some reason, I feel heat spreading from my ears down to my neck.

"So, anyway, is there a particular reason you're going to visit the kid now?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes. From what Sofia's told me, and from what I've been able to ascertain from the census records, I'm reasonably sure that the child at the Langel farm is hers, but I need to confirm it in person. I'd also like to ask Mrs. Langel how she became the girl's guardian in the first place. There are some gaps in the story that I'm sure Sofia would like to know, that I don't think she was made aware of at the time."

"What, you don't think Erwin told her where he was taking the kid?"

"He didn't. That, I'm sure of," I affirm. "Until recently, Sofia had no idea where her daughter was."

Levi cocks his head. "That's strange. It's also strange that Erwin never mentioned he had a daughter, not even when he asked me to protect Sofia."

"Maybe he trusted that she was safe enough with the Langels," I suggest.

"Maybe. But I also wonder ... " Levi trails off, staring out the window again. "When you talk to Mrs. Langel, don't mention that the kid is Erwin's. It's possible that he wanted to keep it a secret for some reason."

I smile and bob my head. "You're full of good ideas today, Levi! You're right - it will be more informative if I allow Mrs. Langel to tell me everything that she knows without me confusing her with additional details."

A knock at the door to the office startles the both of us, and I clamp my mouth shut before I can say anything else. It has to be one of the other Scout cadets - no one else is here right now - and a disgruntled part of me huffs in annoyance at being interrupted.

"Yes? Come in!" I call out.

Jean pokes his head in through the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. "Commander? A messenger from the palace just stopped by."

"What did they want?"

"Apparently there's going to be another meeting about that possible expedition into Wall Maria. They want you there, obviously."

"When?"

"In two hours or so. I thought you'd need some time to prepare, so I ..."

"Right, right, thank you, Jean." I press my palms against the desktop and rise from my chair. "Well, this conversation has been enlightening for me, Levi, as I hope it was for you. Take a break for a while and then accompany me to this meeting."

"Roger, Commander." He tenses his lips in what I assume is supposed to be a smile.

"Keep your head up, man! We've got answers waiting for us on the horizon."

"I sure hope so, Hanji," he sighs, rising alongside me. "For our sake, and Sofia's."

Chapter Text

"All right, cadets, I've been allocated very little time to train you, so I need you to give me all the effort you sorry shits can manage," Shadis shouts at us through the chilly morning air.

I don't know if it's his harsh words or the obscenely early hour, but not a single person is smiling. We all stare up at him through exhausted, bloodshot eyes, too tired to feel angry.

"As you know normal training would take place over the course of three years. But that's for teenagers. Babies. We don't have - and you all shouldn't need - that kind of time," he barks. "Unless you are a bunch of gurgling toddlers, I expect you to whip yourselves into shape in the six months we've been allotted. And if you don't think you can handle that, well, there's wagons waiting to cart your puny asses back home to your mothers. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, sir!" we chorus dully, slamming our fists over our hearts. My own heart beats slow and unmoved beneath the side of my hand; it'll take more than a few petty insults and weak threats to dissuade me from continuing training.

I can't see Lailin from my position towards the head of the column, but I can almost hear her groan -- I'm impressed she's still here, to be honest. It's been a grueling two weeks. We wake up most mornings at close to 4:00 AM, in order to be dressed and ready for the morning run at 4:30. Some people, including me, wake up before then in order to fit in an additional workout before the run. By five we have to be assembled in the column (as we are now) to receive daily orders and, if we're lucky, a hunk of bread or a cracker packet for breakfast. More often than not, though, we don't get a chance to eat until lunch at noon. By that time, my arms are usually so spent from training all morning that I can hardly lift a fork to my mouth, but we still have the rest of the afternoon of training to look forward to until we're dismissed for dinner and bed at nightfall.

All of us are exhausted from the arduous schedule. In the past few days alone, the regiment has dwindled down to only a fraction of its starting number as people give up and return home. But Lailin and I don't have that option.

I sneak a peek at the soldier next to me. Xander. As always, he remains unperturbed by Shadis' orders, squinting up at the commander with a placid, unhurried smile. I think he's insane, but part of me also admires his toughness.

"Good!" Shadis claps his hands together loudly, startling a few of the other cadets who are standing in the front row. "You've finished your morning run, so now we'll start with today's real training. Units A, B, and E, you'll start with mucking out the stables. Units C and D, you're working on the ODM training structures first. After noon grub we'll switch tasks. At ease."

The lines to my left begin filing towards the stables, a few bolder people moaning about their distaste for mucking out stalls, but Xander and I, as well as about fifty others, stay put. As part of Units C and D, we'll be starting with ODM gear training.

I grit my teeth. A week or so ago, when Shadis first had us try out the training structures, I had struggled to stay upright for longer than thirty seconds. Shadis' shouts and ridicule alone had wounded me enough that I had no desire to repeat the experience. Nevertheless, I had added a long set of crunches to my morning routine in order to strengthen my abdominal muscles and to, hopefully, not fail so miserably next time.

Will it work, though? I have a sinking feeling that I will fare no better today than I did a week ago.

Xander falls in step beside me as we make our way over to the training structures. Oddly enough, his presence doesn't feel too foreign. We've formed a tentative friendship over the past two weeks, perhaps borne of the fact that he's often the first person I have a real conversation with in the morning.

"Excited?" he asks me.

I can't tell if he's poking fun at me, since I'm sure my face is a delicate shade of green. "To have my ears blown out by Shadis' critiques? Not a chance," I huff.

"Who says he'll critique you?" His voice is contemplative but slightly teasing.

I chuckle. "Didn't you see me last time? Almost as soon as I was raised up I fell right back down again. That's worth a critique for sure."

"Ah, but that was last time," he says, bumping me with his shoulder. He's so much bigger than me that the force causes me to stumble a bit. "I've noticed you've been working out in the mornings - you're even stronger now than you were a week ago. You're bound to do better today."

He noticed that I - ? I refuse to let myself dwell on it. "I definitely hope you're right," I sigh. "From his speech this morning I've a feeling Shadis is in the mood to chuck a few people out today."

Xander breathes out a quiet laugh. "You might be right."

"Ca-DETS! Enough with the chitchat! Shut your pieholes and get on over here!" Shadis bellows. The stragglers scramble to assemble in front of the training structures.

"We've got a little over six hours to get all of you through the training exercises at least six times. If you waste any of that I will PERSONALLY skin you alive! Is that clear?" When nobody speaks, he juts his chin upward in an approving nod. "Wonderful! Remember, there are eleven structures here and about fifty of you! That means there will be about five groups of eleven rotating in and out. First eleven members of Unit C - come on up here. First eleven members of Unit D, you'll be operating the cranks. Get on up here as well."

As the eleven cadets choose their structure and the others help them to clip themselves in, Lailin saunters up next to me. She frowns at Xander, who's still standing silent at my other side.

"You ready for this, Sofia?" she whispers. "I'm sure not."

"Just grip every muscle in your body and pray," I advise in a low voice. "And -- shhh. If Shadis hears us talking we're dead."

We watch as the first eleven cadets are raised off the ground. Most tremble and sway before grabbing the wires attached to their waists in order to support themselves. Only a couple manage to hold themselves upright without holding on to the wires, and these lucky few escape Shadis' angry barrage of abuse.

"Oh, I'm never making it. I may as well start packing," Lailin groans.

"Yes, you should, with that attitude," Xander notes.

I suck in a breath. His tone is clearly not meant to be cruel, but knowing Lailin she will take it as an insult. If she retaliates we'll all get in trouble with Shadis.

Just as I predict, Lailin bristles at once. "What do you mean by that, pretty boy? Think you're going to do much better?"

Xander doesn't respond, shrugging instead. He seems capable enough; he must have worked in some sort of manual trade before joining up. His arms are corded with muscle, and his uniform shirt pulls taut across his toned chest. He's definitely in shape to be a soldier, whereas Lailin and I... The scanty rations we're allotted haven't done much to fill out our figures, which were already too thin to begin with. He doesn't have to tell her out loud that he'd last longer than her, no contest. We're both already thinking it.

"Shh," I hiss again, hoping to end the conversation. "Shadis."

He's finished hollering at the first eleven cadets by now. "All right, switch! Next group, strap yourselves in! Come on, hurry hurry!"

"That's you, Arawen," Xander says evenly.

Crap. I swallow hard and jog up to one of the training structures. The wooden pillars loom above my head in a pyramidal shape, two wires with large metal clips dangling down from the peak. The cadet manning my structure helps me clip the wires to my belt, and I take another deep breath as I check to make sure everything's secure.

"All right! Ready?" Shadis glances at each of us. "Raise 'em up."

The wires pull taut. I feel my belt slide up my hips slightly as I'm lifted off the ground. I try to keep my toes on the hard-packed dirt for as long as possible, but soon I lose contact completely. I hold my arms straight out in an attempt to keep my balance and squeeze all the muscles in my core tightly. My eyes are clenched shut, too; I don't want to see the ground sweeping up to meet me when, inevitably, I fall.

Fifteen seconds ... twenty seconds ... Come on, if I can make it to at least thirty-five! It would only be a five-second improvement from my last time, but a little is better than no improvement at all. I clench my abdominal muscles tighter and force myself to breathe. Already, my muscles are screaming in protest of the lack of oxygen and my mediocre stamina; more crunches are definitely in order.

I'm trembling by the time I count to thirty-five seconds, unsure of how much longer I can last. Timidly, I wrench my eyelids open an infinitesimal amount, and see that nobody else has made it this far. Of course, Shadis appears as unimpressed as ever, but I feel bolder at my success. Forty seconds ... Can I make it to a full minute?

As if to mock me, my muscles shudder and all at once give out. Before I can reach to grab the wires and steady myself, I swing, face-first, straight towards the ground.

I flail my arms out in front of me and somehow manage to avoid slamming my head into the dirt. My palms bark in pain as they scrape across the rocky earth.

"Woah, there, cadet!" Shadis calls out. "Good save."

All of my muscles quiver with exhaustion as I'm let back down. I lay on the ground for a moment, sucking in ragged breaths.

"All of you did miserably! I don't know what backwater villages or hovels you all crawled out of, but they should be ashamed of you! That right there was a disgrace to your queen and your country, and further proves that you're only fit to be Titan fodder!"

I struggle to my hands and knees, cheeks burning, and shoot a glance at the other ten cadets. None of them meet Shadis' eyes.

"If you don't get your sorry asses into gear soon, I will personally see to it that you never see another moment of peace or quiet for the rest of your pathetic lives!" He uncrosses his arms and runs an exasperated hand over his bald head. "Right now, the only one in this group who I see fit to be a soldier is Arawen. She put your pitiful attempts to shame."

Just wonderful -- now there's a target on my back. Still, my chest sears with warmth from his praise. Maybe I am strong enough to be here after all!

As I wrench myself to my feet, my core screeches in pain. I almost stumble back down to the ground again, panting heavily. Well, maybe not that strong, I tell myself dryly. But certainly getting there.

~~~~~

At dinner that night, I sit with Xander and Lailin and attempt to carry on a civil conversation with the both of them. Lailin doesn't make it easy. When Xander retires to bed early, she glares at his retreating back and declares, "There's something about that man that I don't like. Not one bit."

"We've only known him for a few weeks," I remind her as we head off to our own cabin. "What can you possibly hate him for already?"

She shrugs, miffed. "I dunno. Just - there's something off. I don't trust him."

"Right." I furrow my brow at her and slide into my bunk.

I fall asleep quickly, the last thing I remember thinking of being Xander.

I haven't dreamed much since Erwin's death - not that I can remember, anyway. But tonight, I find myself dreaming almost as soon as I close my eyes.

I'm standing in the middle of a clearing, near a group of tall houses. I can't tell what time of day it is, and for some reason, every hair on the back of my neck is standing on end.

Where am I?

I hear someone breathing very quickly, as if they are hyperventilating. Whoever it is sounds as if they are close by, perhaps around the corner of the house I'm standing next to. Concerned, I peer around the corner.

Before I can register anything else, I see the titan. Thick brown hair covers it from head to toe, except for bare patches on its face, chest, and stomach. It looks like some kind of ape, with almost kind, dark eyes and a disturbingly human smile. My breath hitches in horror as I realize it's not the only titan in the area, either. Though I've never seen a titan in real life, I can see them now -- hiding behind the trees around me, peering out at the hairy titan as if they are just as afraid of it as I am.

And the person who's breathing so quickly, the person I heard hyperventilating ... it's a man with oh-so-familiar, shaggy brown hair, a thin mustache ... and his eyes, they must be that shade of pale, fresh green, though there's no way I can see them from here ...

"Mike," I whisper, then shout -- "MIKE!"

I realize, perhaps belatedly -- his legs are broken. Ripped apart. My stomach twists with the grim promise of vomit. In the midst of all these titans, with no one to help him, he has nowhere to run. His once-stoic face is twisted in agony and fear, and for a moment I hesitate. I'm not used to him losing his composure like this; it reminds me, painfully and all-too-strongly, of the last time I saw him alive.

Why am I dreaming of him now?

"MIKE!" The wail rips from my throat like the slash of a sword.

I have to save him, somehow, or at least die trying. I've forgotten I'm in a dream, and all I feel is desperation. Forgive me. Please, hang on for a moment - I'm coming. Wait for me.

The apelike titan does not seem to hear me. Neither does Mike. Suddenly, the creature turns away, then bellows, as if giving orders. The titans in the trees leap to attention and barrel towards Mike.

Someone's screaming -- I can't tell if it's me or him. My legs won't move as fast as I want them to, though I'm pumping with all my might; I won't get there in time. Forgive me -- ! Mike, I was trying so hard!

"NO! MIKE! STOP!"

There are too many of them. Too many hands, too many sets of teeth, too many jaws opened wide: crushing, ripping, the soulless eyes of monsters swimming with not an ounce of remorse or humanity. Not one notices me as I collapse to my knees, sobbing out Mike's name, unable to stop shaking. They're tearing him apart.

His screams. No -- I want to claw my ears away until there's nothing left to hear but the warm, sticky blood cascading down my eardrums like rain. I scream, too, until I can almost feel what it's like to be ripped in half -- parts of my world disintegrating until all I see is black.

I can still hear him when I start awake. I stare into the pitch blackness, weeping for what feels like hours. Forgive me, I whisper. Oh, god. What did I just see?

Chapter Text

It's been a week since I told Levi about Asha, and now I'm standing outside the entrance to the Langel farm. Though it's nearly noon, clouds cover the sun, and the cool mist that drifts down from the nearby mountains every morning hasn't dissipated yet. Fluffy heads of hay-grass wave along one side of the dirt road, bobbing ears of corn on the other. Above, a trio of goshawks wheel through the grey sky, their harsh, laughing calls echoing through the valley. Besides the soft trickle of a stream, their eerie cries are all I can hear.

Ahead of me, at the end of a trampled grass path, a large farmhouse is nestled against a gargantuan watermill. I check Leah Langel's letter again: The big house with the blue roof and waterwheel, about a mile's ride from Dohna Village. I glance up at the farmhouse and notice it's shingled with dark blue tiles. Yes, this must be it.

I lead my horse by the reins up the narrow path to the front door of the house. As I get closer, I can just make out the chatter and giggles of small children above the cry of the goshawks and the intensifying babble of the stream. In spite of the chilly air, I find myself smiling -- it sounds like a happy family.

I tie my reins around a fencepost and step onto the sturdy porch. It looks like fresh wood, peppered with new iron nails; the farm must be doing well, if the family can afford such an unnecessary extravagance as a new porch.

After a half-second of hesitation, I knock on the pine front door. I hear a woman shush the children inside the house, and then the door swings open.

A woman in her early to mid-thirties stands before me, her flaxen hair gathered into a wispy bun. She has Mike's spring green eyes, but her pink, thin lips curve much more easily into a smile. Her nose and cheeks are much rounder, too, and she doesn't have the same harsh lines between her brows.

"Commander Hanji!" she exclaims, stepping aside and ushering me through the doorway. "Please, come in. It's an honor to have you here. I'm Leah Langel. Please, do come in."

I incline my head and step through the threshold, hiding my smile at her flustered excitement. "Thank you for accommodating me, Mrs. Langel," I say. "I must say, this is quite a beautiful area of the Walls, and your home, of course, is enchanting."

"Why, thank you, thank you," she stammers. "Do sit down, there's a place at the kitchen table for you."

The farmhouse is comprised of one large central room, but I notice a pair of doors off to my left that seem to lead to a couple of bedrooms. In the northern corner of the house, a small fire crackles in the riverstone fireplace, in front of which a few hunting dogs lounge on a tattered red carpet. On the wall across from me, a large window, filled with three separate panes of glass, overlooks the stream and grassy hillside beyond, offering a beautiful view of the mountains looming in the distance.

The children are hiding behind the worn armchairs in the center of the room, regarding me with wide, shy eyes. I wiggle my fingers at them, but the gesture only serves to make them retreat further behind the furniture.

"So, you want to speak with me about Asha?" Leah asks, sitting across from me as I take a seat at the kitchen table towards the back of the room.

"Yes, I have a few questions about how she came into your care," I begin. "If your husband or in-laws are here, it would be wonderful if I could speak with them also."

"My husband and father-in-law are out in the fields, but as for my mother --"

"I am here," a quavery voice interrupts us. From one of the bedrooms emerges an older woman, perhaps in her late fifties, wearing an apron with a similar calico print to Leah's. She smiles at me somewhat tremulously and takes a seat next to her daughter-in-law. "I'm Ruth Langel, Leah's mother-in-law. It's a pleasure to meet you, Commander Hanji."

"Likewise, Mrs. Langel."

"Please, call us Ruth and Leah - it'll be much too confusing otherwise."

"As you wish." I press my lips together in a smile and bob my head at her.

"So - what questions do you have?" Leah asks. "I'm afraid I don't know too much about her origins, but ... I'll do my best to answer you."

"Well, to begin, how did you acquire guardianship of Asha?"

Ruth and Leah exchange a look of hesitation, before Ruth nods to allow Leah to begin the explanation.

"Well, I suppose it may sound a bit strange," Leah starts. "My brother sent me a letter one day, asking if I could take in another child. He said he'd found a baby alone on the streets, and wanted to give the girl a good home, instead of taking her to an orphanage. The orphanages, he said, were no place for children really. Of course, I agree with him there. I talked it over with my husband, and his parents, and we decided to take her in. The farm was doing well; we had the means to support another child. So we decided it was the least we could do, being she was so young and all."

"And she was such a delicate young thing, she was," Ruth interjects. "I remember thinking -- how could anyone just abandon a sweet little baby like that, all alone by herself? And once Leah decided to take her in, well, she felt just like one of my own grandbabies. Gets on right well with the other children, as if they were real brothers and sisters."

Leah nods, smiling softly. "Yes, she gets on well. Mike told us what her name was and everything, so we didn't name her ourselves, but... He brought her here himself, once I wrote to say we'd take her. He must have carried her all that way on his saddle -- it's a miracle he managed it!" She chuckles, then sucks in a deep breath.

I notice she glances over her shoulder at the china cabinet in the corner. A portrait of Mike is propped on one of the shelves, surrounded by half-burned candles.

"There, there," Ruth murmurs, rubbing Leah's arm. "It's good you're remembering the good things."

"Ah, yes," I say, somewhat awkwardly. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

She attempts a shaky smile. "It's all right. We knew it would ... we knew it would happen one day. But, at any rate -" She waves her hands. "Back to the matter at hand. Is there anything else you need to know?"

I need to be careful with my word choice; it appears the Langel family definitely isn't aware of Asha's parentage. But still -- I'm curious about a couple of things.

"Did Mike ever ... visit Asha ... to see how she was getting on?" I ask, weighing each word.

"Yes, he would, occasionally," Leah says. "I mean, I don't know if he was around specifically to see her, but he would come visit for holidays and such, when he had leave. I noticed he started coming around more often after we took Asha in, though."

"Yes, and a few times, he brought the commander with him - Commander Smith, I mean," Ruth adds. "I think Smith took an interest in the girl, as well."

"Right, I forgot to mention. It was Commander Smith who found Asha in the first place and asked Mike to find a home for her," Leah says. "I suppose it was only natural that he wanted to come and see how she was doing."

"R-really?" I reply weakly. Was Erwin really so brazen, coming to visit his daughter after taking such pains to conceal any links between them? I almost can't believe it - it's so far removed from the calculated, logical Erwin I know. But the Langels don't seem to have caught on to the real reason behind his visits.

"I can't remember him coming very often. Like Ruth said, it was only ever a few times."

"Right. And Mike never told you who her parents were?"

"I'm not sure if he even knew." Leah hesitates. "But, you know, part of me always wondered ... Mike took such pains getting her here, and coming to visit her, and ... he ... he was always so tender and gentle with her, in a way I'd never really seen him act towards anyone, especially not a child ... I almost wondered if, well ... if she was his child, you know."

"Ah." I blink at her, not quite comprehending.

"I know they don't look alike, but - I always thought the story was a little strange. I mean, he gave Asha his last name! And the Commander of the Scouts, caring so much about one orphaned child? But I suppose if ... he knew it was his best friend's daughter, he might care a little more, you know?"

"I see," I say slowly. "So that's your only theory? Mike never elaborated on the truth?"

"No. I guess if it really was his child, he wouldn't want to claim her because she'd have been born out of wedlock, and -" She blushes. "It would lead to too many awkward questions."

"But even so, he was a respectable man," Ruth says, almost defensive. "And I respect him even more for how he treated her. He cared about her as if she were his own daughter - whether or not that's true I guess we'll never know, since both he and the commander are dead now."

"Yes, that is true." I bow my head.

After a moment of heavy silence, Leah pipes up in a forced, bright voice. "Oh, you should meet her. Asha, dear," she calls over to the group of children hiding behind the armchairs. "Could you come over here, please?"

From behind one of the chairs, a little girl emerges reluctantly, her fat little hand clutching a small cornhusk doll. She paces towards the kitchen table, dragging her feet with every step, until she's standing next to Leah. Her curly, light brown hair is tied back lovingly with a pale pink ribbon. Looking at her, I can see the image of her mother, and when she peeks up at me under her fair baby lashes -- good Lord, I know those eyes. It almost startles me, how blue they are, so much like Erwin's. Even in the round, innocent face so unlike his, the resemblance is striking.

"Say hello to Commander Hanji," Leah urges the child gently.

"Hello," Asha says in a sweet shy voice.

"Hello, little one. How old are you?"

"I just turned five." She holds up five stubby fingers, then ducks beneath the table.

"Ah, you're just a young chick yet. Care to introduce me to your doll?" I ask.

She gives me a toothy grin. "Okay," she says softly. "This is Mama."

"Mama, as in your mother Leah?"

"No, Leah's not my mama," Asha explains in her innocent, baby's voice. "She's my Mother. My real mama is far away."

"I see."

"I used to have a Papa doll, too, but I gave him away."

I cock my head as the pieces begin to fall in place. "Leah, could I talk to Asha outside alone? If that's okay with you?"

"Of course." She bends down and places her hands on the little girl's shoulders. "Asha, honey, go show Commander Hanji the new porch, okay?"

Asha nods, and, staring at me with her big blue eyes, takes my hand and tugs me out the front door. I close the heavy oak panel carefully behind us.

"Here's the porch."

"It's very nice."

"Father and Poppo built it."

"Did they, now?"

She bobs her head and shyly stuffs her thumb into her mouth. The cornhusk doll still dangles from her chubby fingers.

"Asha, if you don't mind me asking, who did you give your Papa doll to?"

"The big golden man," she says at once.

"Mike?" I guess.

She shakes her head. "Not Uncle Mike, the other man - he had yellow hair and a funny necklace."

"Oh." Erwin -- it must have been. "Why did you give the golden man your Papa doll?"

She shrugs, fiddles with the thin strip of cloth that has been tied around the doll's waist. "I told him I didn't have a real papa, and he told me he could pretend to be my papa. He said we could play a game and he would be my papa."

My heart all but breaks then. I wonder how much it must have killed Erwin inside -- to say the word 'pretend.' And now she doesn't even remember his name; she only knows him as the big golden man.

"I see," is all I say out loud.

"Uncle Mike is dead now, isn't he?" the child says.

"He is. I'm very sorry."

"Why? Did he die because of you?"

Even though her eyes merely hold curiosity, I flinch. There's no way for a child of only four to understand the intricacies of his death yet, but the implication of blame ... I shake away the pangs of guilt, knowing they don't belong to me.

"No. But I'm sorry that he died all the same. He was a good man, your uncle," I say.

She cocks her head. "Where is the big golden man?"

I've forgotten that I'm supposed to be the one asking the questions. "I'm afraid he's also dead now. I'm sorry."

She blinks up at me, uncomprehending, still playing with the tattered piece of fabric around her doll. Her lower lip trembles once, then stills; I can't imagine what her five-year-old brain must be thinking.

"If he's gone, then who's going to be my Papa?"

Chapter Text

“Your goal, of course, is to aim for this weak point – the ten-centimetre wide area at the nape of their neck. Imagine it’s where the spinal cord enters the skull.”

Shadis stands at the front of the narrow classroom, where a blackboard spans the entirety of the front wall. He sketches a simple figure in chalk and circles a section around its neck.

“Once you sever the spinal cord, the titan’s regenerative abilities will be destroyed, and thus it will die,” he continues. “I would advise you to aim for this spot only and avoid dealing unnecessary damage. Any other wounds won’t weaken it, since it can heal itself so quickly. It’s best to get in and get out as fast as possible. There’s no need to stay in range for a moment longer than necessary.”

Some of my fellow trainees are studiously scribbling notes on sheafs of parchment, nodding along to Shadis’ lecture. A few particularly artistic ones are making more detailed diagrams of Shadis’ simple drawing on the board. I shift in my seat and knit my fingers together. I’d like to take notes of my own, but my handwriting is so slow and laborious I’d end up focusing on trying to keep up, and trying to keep it legible, rather than paying attention to the lecture itself.

Lailin sits next to me at our two-person table, her chin propped up on her hand. Like me, she’s forgone any sort of note taking, and she watches Shadis with half-lidded eyes. Her pupils dart to track his every movement, though, so knowing her she’s giving him her utmost attention. One of her fingers picks at a loose splinter at the front of the table.

“How old do you reckon Shadis is?” she asks in a low voice, as he drones on at the front of the classroom.

“How old?” I frown as I consider it. “I don’t know. Late forties?”

“Nah. I bet older.”

“The skin of a titan is notoriously tough. That’s why the only weapon that can even scratch one are swords made from ultrahard steel.” Shadis continues his lesson completely unaware of Lailin’s whispered conjectures about his age. “However, there are other weapons that can deal a good amount of damage, resulting in a titan’s death, such as thunder spears and wall-mounted artillery –”

“I bet he was handsome when he had hair,” Lailin muses.

“I’d rather not hear this, thank you,” I mutter.

“No, I’m serious. Imagine him about twenty years younger. My metal picture isn’t too bad.”

I tune her out and try to focus on what Shadis is saying. “There are further weapons in development – like long-barrel rifles, for example – but you won’t be training with those. ODM gear and thunder spears are your best bet when it comes to a direct attack on a titan.”

“How well do you think he’d take it if I tried a little of my … you know … womanly magic on him?”

She must be trying to make me laugh. “Lailin, you do that and he’d give you a blade to the gut. So not well.”

“Of course I know that. I was only kidding,” she replies with a grin.

I suppress a chuckle and let my eyes wander around the room. As I glance down the line of trainees sitting alongside the windows, I find a pair of blue eyes already staring back at me.

Xander. A sour, metallic taste coats my tongue, and that hot flash again. I shake away the sensations.

Nobody’s sitting in between us, and Shadis is facing the board. So I don’t think anyone sees when he tosses a folded piece of parchment in my direction.

Passing notes? He’s really getting into the schoolroom atmosphere.

The note lands on the floor next to my boot. Lailin’s head swivels at the almost imperceptible slap it makes on the floor, suspicion clouding her green gaze.

“What was that?” she asks.

“I dropped a piece of paper. Keep your voice down,” I hiss in reply. She already doesn’t like Xander, and I don’t want to poke the bear.

Trying not to catch Shadis’ attention, I reach down and scoop the note up off the floor. He’s folded it a ridiculous number of times, and I cringe at every rustle the parchment makes as I smooth it flat.

Sleep well last night?

I frown at the question; it’s simultaneously frigidly cordial, and bracingly familiar. I pick up my disused pen to scrawl an answer.

I slept good. For the couple hours we’re allowed to sleep anyway.

It was a lie. I’d dreamed of Mike again, as I had nearly every night for the past month, and the accursed regularity of the nightmare meant I hadn’t been sleeping well at all. As soon as I’d drift off to sleep, I’d find myself hiding behind that building again, peering around the corner to be faced with the apelike titan and its eerily human eyes. And Mike.

I swallow, fold the note up again, and slide it across the floor in Xander’s direction.

When he picks it up and reads it, his forehead creases, a smirk pulling at his lips. He jots down a response before tossing the parchment back to me.

Liar. I see the dark circles. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.

He already knows me too well. The fact should scare me, but it doesn’t.

~~~~~

After the lesson, Shadis turns us out into the wilderness for some practice with ODM gear. He tells us there’s wooden titans erected throughout the forest surrounding the gully, and that we should practise aiming for the thicker block of wood at their napes. The exercise will be unsupervised; he claims he has letters to write, paperwork to catch up on. “But I will know who has been practising, and who hasn’t,” he warned. “So don’t think you can just fuck around.”

Just fucking around is, unfortunately, just what Lailin has in mind, so it takes all of my persuasive power and a bit of physical strength to force her to come with me. When she finally follows me into the woods (a bit begrudgingly, but at least she is following!), I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

“First the early morning workouts, and now this,” she groans. “You’re worse than the brothel owner at the Spry Cat, with how hard you’re working me. Or worse than Captain Levi. I’m sure he knows how to work a woman hard…”

“Lailin, find a man to vent your womanly frustrations to. I’m sure he’d appreciate it more than me,” I groan.

“Prickly, prickly,” Lailin whistles. “I thought I could rant to you about something like this! I’ve always been able to.”

“Well, if you’re having to get your kicks by imagining how Commander Shadis would look twenty years younger, your problem needs a much more masculine solution.”

“Or feminine. Don’t pigeonhole me.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “My bad. But my point is – do something about it.”

We’re deep in the forest now, and I keep my eyes peeled for one of the titan replicas looming between the trees. I’m eager to start training and leave Lailin to puzzle out a solution for her problem on her own.

Sunlight dapples the faint path at my feet, and I pause to marvel at it for a moment. The ever-present, almost exorbitant amount of light on the surface never fails to amaze me. I trace the patterns it makes on the leaves littering the ground until Lailin’s sigh of frustration snaps me back to reality.

“What is it?”

“I found a structure,” she huffs, stomping over to me and pointing through the trees up ahead. “But it’s apparently already in use.”

I follow where she’s pointing and spot a lone figure zipping around a vaguely titan-shaped construction, barely visible through the thick tree trunks. At first, I can hardly recognise the blur of blond hair and the muscular physique, but then I realise. It’s Xander, which explains Lailin’s irritation.

“Well, let’s watch him for a bit. Maybe we can learn from observation,” I propose.

She purses her lips, but doesn’t argue.

We pace a bit closer to see better. He’s landed, cursing at his equipment and readjusting something on his belt. His shirt is already soaked with sweat – not that I blame him, since ODM gear is insanely physically taxing. He stares up at the titan structure with a scowl marring his usually self-assured expression.

“He seems to be having some trouble,” Lailin remarks with satisfaction.

I watch as he aims for a tree trunk, then zips towards it, gas hissing in his wake. He loses control just as he’s about to make contact with the bark and falls to the ground. The look on his face could kill a man.

“I’ve never seen him this worked up.” Lailin sounds almost gleeful.

He shakes himself off, takes a deep breath. Almost at once his face loses all expression. He simply aims again and fires his grappling hooks. When he loses control again, he crashes to the forest floor.

Lailin doesn’t say a word as he rises and brushes himself off. As he fires, again and again, and as he falls just as many times. Neither of us say anything.

At last, he manages to zip to the top of the tree, where he perches for a moment to catch his breath. Even from all the way down here, I can see the triumph gleaming in his eyes. Dirt streaks his face and his white shirt, but he’s made it to the top at last. And when he aims for the wooden block at the nape of the titan’s neck, he doesn’t miss, either. His blades carve through the wood with a splintering squeal.

“He doesn’t know how to quit, does he?” Lailin breathes.

No, he certainly does not. In spite of all his negative attributes – his egotism, his condescension – even Lailin has to admit the man is nothing if not persistent in achieving what he wants.

Admiration sparks in my belly as I watch him.

Chapter Text

POV: Sofia

Now that it's nearing the end of September, the heat of summer at the training camp has dissipated, replaced with chill morning air. Nevertheless, I pry myself out of bed every morning before dawn to complete my daily sets of crunches and pushups before the morning run. In the past month or so it's become a familiar, almost peaceful necessity in my routine. Lying in the cool grass between the cabins, staring up at the pale orange sky pocked with the remnants of fading stars, the satisfying exhaustion seeping deeper into my bones with every heartbeat. Now I can do nearly two hundred crunches without stopping, and close to a hundred pushups - I hardly recognize my body anymore.

I wipe the sweat from my brow and pause to catch my breath for a moment. In the cabin beside me, I can hear the rumble of footsteps as the rest of the girls get dressed for the run. I should do the same.

Yawning to myself, I slip my uniform shirt back on and retie my hair into a neater ponytail.

"Oy, Sofia."

I blink at the figure standing in the narrow gap between the cabins ahead of me. "I'm coming, Lailin."

"Sorry I didn't work out with you this morning, I was just too tired," she apologizes.

"It's all right." I take the hand she offers me and pull myself to my feet. "Didn't you sleep well?"

She raises one of her shoulders in a half-shrug. "Well enough. I'm still getting used to the sounds of bugs outside, isn't that strange? And the wind, too - it's eerie sometimes. There are so many sounds up here."

I chuckle. "I guess that's true. Ready for the run?"

"I came out here to ask you the same question!"

"Lay-DEES! Why am I hearing chatter coming from your cabins?" Shadis' voice booms out across the gorge. "Get in formation for morning march at once!"

I stifle my laugh at Lailin's dramatic eye-roll and push her towards the center of camp, where the rest of our cabinmates are congregating. Already, the male trainees have gathered in their column, and Shadis gives them the signal to begin the run. I hurry to join the remaining trainees before Shadis can yell again.

"Looks like Xander's waiting for us," Lailin mutters as she breaks into a smooth jog at my side.

I don't respond and glance sharply ahead of us, where it's clear he's holding back to allow us to catch up. Again, I find myself admiring his courage. All the other trainees are jogging with all they've got, for fear of being scolded for lollygagging. Not Xander - his utter disregard for authority is almost as inspiring as it is troubling.

Lailin groans. "Looks like we're going to catch up with him no matter what. Unfortunately."

"You can't be jealous of every new friend I make, Lailin," I remind her. "At least try to get along with him."

"Sure," she grumbles as we pull up beside him.

He smiles cordially in greeting. "Good morning, ladies. Isn't it beautiful out this morning?"

"It's a little chilly, but sure. Absolutely lovely," Lailin snipes.

I press my lips together; it seems she's already completely disregarded my plea for civility.

"Do you think it will rain later today?" I ask Xander hurriedly, before it can get worse.

He cocks his head, still keeping in easy stride beside me. "Dunno. Looks like there're some clouds building up, though."

"Just what we need, when we're having the outdoor shelter seminar tonight," Lailin groans. "Has he assigned the squadrons for that yet, by the way?"

I bob my head. "He did that at evening muster last night, remember? You're in squadron eleven, I'm in squadron eight."

"Ah, wonderful, I'm also in squad eight." Xander doesn't look at me, but a tiny, satisfied smile curls across his ovular face. "Looks like we'll be braving any rain together."

Lailin makes a face, but at least turns away so he doesn't see her look of disgust.

I choose to ignore her, at least this once. "Yeah. Here's to hoping we're assigned a good campsite - I don't want to wake up wet."

"Right." Xander sounds faintly amused, and for some reason an embarrassed flush crawls across the tops of my ears. Did I say something wrong?

"Well, that's the life of a soldier, right?" Lailin pushes past the uncomfortable moment to complain more. "Braving the elements and all that."

Xander chuckles. "You know, sometimes I don't see why you want to become a soldier, Lailin. All you seem to do is complain."

"Sometimes I don't know why I wanted to, either."

"CADETS! Why am I hearing talking?"

POV: Zeke

It's very strange, going through the whole military training process again.

In some ways, it reminds me a lot of my youth in Marley's warrior program, training to become the next vessel for the Beast Titan. The early mornings, long marches, endless exhausting drills and sharp shouted orders ... it would almost be comforting, if I missed that sort of thing. I've managed to pretend that early part of my life didn't actually happen.

But there are many differences between the two. For the first part, less is expected of me. Here, I'm like any other soldier - unassuming, trivial, just letting the days trickle by - not the child who has the expectation of great power placed on his shoulders. It's freeing. None of these people look at me and see a man who bears the responsibility to save them. And yet - that's my goal. I am going to save them all. I simply won't have to feel the crushing weight of their expectation until I've actually succeeded.

My plans have changed somewhat, from the primary strategy I dreamed up with my predecessor, Mr. Ksaver. The ultimate goal is the same, but I've decided to take a rather different, and perhaps more risky, route than my original plan. Convince Marley to let me infiltrate the Paradis military - that was step one. It was not easy. Of course, it doesn't make much strategic sense; even I knew that. But I'm good at talking out of my ass, and I got them to let me come. Now I'm well on my way to saving all Eldians.

Why infiltrate Paradis, when that's failed so spectacularly before? A fair question, one the Marleyan officials asked me again and again. Of course, I couldn't tell them my true reasoning. I made up some bullshit lie about subverting expectations, and striking from the inside, and hijacking the newly reinstalled Reiss reign ...

But the real reason has to do with the visions. Why I'd risk it all on a mission such as this, spend so much energy convincing the Marleyan government.

Twice it happened - only twice. In total both visions probably only accounted for maybe fifteen minutes of my life, an infinitesimal amount in the grand scheme of things, but I can't get them out of my head. The circumstances surrounding them perhaps have something to do with their persistence in my memory. I've been responsible for the death of a person countless times in my life, so really it shouldn't have made a difference. I've seen into a man's dying thoughts more times than a few.

Yet - and I keep asking myself this - why is it that two men thought of the same woman in those last few moments their hearts were beating? And so similarly? Those two visions are the ones I keep returning to. I don't know the names of the men whose dying memories I read. I don't know, really, who the woman is, either; all I know is that I want to find her quite terribly.

In their visions her elbow-length hair swirls about her head as if she were floating in a clear pool. Her eyes are shut, eyelashes fanning across her soft, pocked cheeks. Her small mouth, with delicate lips the shape of rose petals; her breasts, gently rising and falling with each breath. Her arms: one wrapped around her stomach and the other reaching towards me, unseeing. Every part of her glitters and flashes, as if she were made of the stars themselves. And I feel so close to her, and the longing to hold her close to me almost overwhelms my senses. It's not lust, this feeling. It's perhaps something sweeter, more poisonous, more intoxicating. She never opens her eyes, but I memorize every curve and blemish of her naked body, hoping one day to recognize her somewhere. What is her story? What is her name?

In their visions everything around me is dark and cool, deliciously so. The world reflects around me as if the darkness is bouncing across a cathedral of mirrors. The only light echoes from the woman; she is made of stars, remember? And she's so warm, too. Maybe that's why I want to hold her so close to me.

In the silver light she casts, one can see the faint tracks of tears on her cheeks. You have to wonder - is it for you she is weeping?

No wonder I can't stop thinking about the visions. They're perplexing, so much so that every time they merely cross my mind I can't help but arrest myself for a moment and attempt to puzzle them out. It captivates me. It's little wonder why it consumed the dying thoughts of two separate men -- it now consumes me.

It's late. My muscles protest quietly as I sit against a tree. Far overhead, beyond the tops of the trees, the moon bathes the clearing in a pale golden light. All around me, my fellow trainees snore and slumber on without a care in the world. Our training squadron managed to make a tent from a sheet of canvas and a couple sturdy branches, but it's nowhere near large enough to house all of us. As such, more than a few of us have to sleep outside, on ground that is equally hard and in air that is equally bitter, but at least we have a better view.

I offered to take the first watch. It's only a training formality, of course (it's not like there's any danger out here), and I figure I'm not going to sleep much anyway.

On the other side of the tree I'm leaning against, Sofia Arawen lies curled into a thick wool blanket, her lips fluttering as she breathes softly in her sleep. I find it heartwarming that she elected to sleep outside, near me - but I can't read too much into that. We've known each other for a little over a month now, and I can't deny that she and I have fallen into what I hope is an easy friendship. Sofia Arawen ...

When I first saw the visions, I knew at once I wanted to find the woman within them. If only to satisfy my own curiosity. All I would have to do was change my plans somewhat, factor in a bit more risk. I was prepared to do that. To find her ... when I saw Sofia Arawen that first day of training camp, I knew, or at least I hoped. She has the same face at least. And now, when she's sleeping, the resemblance is even more striking.

I allow my gaze to fasten to her slumbering form. The wrinkles around her eyes have smoothed; her brow has softened. She's lost the haunted worry that dogs her when she's awake. With her hair splayed out around her head like a lion's mane, she looks exactly like the woman from the visions. I'm almost sure. A few questions and I should know whether or not my hunch is correct.

It's not like I'm falling in love with her - she's an Eldian from Paradis. It would be self-sabotage to do so. Instead, it's curiosity that's burning me up, causing me to watch her and follow her every move, wanting to be near her and get her to trust me.

Somewhere, an owl hoots across the sleeping forest. I shiver as a chill breeze whispers around the trees. I glance upwards again, where the tiny circle of night sky above me seems to waver as the treetops toss in the wind. Beside me, Sofia Arawen sleeps on.

Chapter Text

October 845

POV: Sofia

One night, in early autumn, he asked if he could take me somewhere.

"Take me somewhere? Where?"

I watched him pull his shirt on again and button it, his golden hair hazy in the dim candlelight.

"You'll see. It'll be a surprise."

"Ah, I see." The bedsheet slipped off my shoulders as I leaned forward. His long fingers never stilled, continuing to do up the buttons. "Are we going up to the surface?"

He finished buttoning the shirt and stood up from the bed. "Perhaps."

My heart fluttered in nervous anticipation, and I reached for my chemise, which had been discarded on the floor next to the bed. "We're going to sneak up there?"

"You ask so many questions. You must have learned that from me," was all he said.

I pulled my chemise back on and slipped my dress on over it. My hair was badly mussed, so I tied it back with a ribbon, Erwin's eyes following me closely as I did so.

"What are you looking at?" I asked him in amusement.

"Absolutely nothing," he murmured.

"Right." I finished readying myself and slunk past him, nudging him with my hip. He didn't stumble, of course (the difference in size between us was much too large), but his eyebrows shot up in bemusement.

I sighed to myself. Ironically, part of him was still so easily confused by the slightest physical touch.

"Are you going to lead the way, or should I decide where we go instead?" I asked over my shoulder as I pushed the door to my room open.

He seized me by my waist and held me firmly in place. "No chance. You follow me, love."

A smile flew to my lips, unbidden, at the endearing nickname. He'd taken to calling me that, when just my name wouldn't do - and it damn near got me every time. And the way he'd say it: his deep voice husky over the solitary syllable, ending with a rumble that made the deepest part of my stomach burn with heat. I almost wanted to drag him back inside and stay in for the rest of the night, instead of going wherever he was planning to take me. My throat throbbed with the aching urge.

"Are you sure you don't just want to stay in?" I suggested in my most seductive voice.

His lips skimmed the sensitive skin across my collarbone. "When we return, I'll make it worth your while."

My stomach flipped, mind driven to distraction by the weight of his large hands on my waist and the warmth of his breath on my neck. "All right then, sir. So long as you give me your word."

"Do you have a cloak?"

"There should be one on the hook behind the door, if you'd be so kind as to grab it for me."

He did so, and I flung it around my shoulders as he pulled the door shut behind us.

"Hood up?" I asked, just to be sure.

"Hood up," he affirmed.

I noticed he wasn't wearing his green Scout hood, which would be too recognizable, but rather a more discreet, plain cloak made from dark grey wool. He had forgone the high brown boots of the Scout uniform as well, instead opting for shorter black ones. Nobody would see him and mistake him for a soldier, that was for sure.

I held onto his arm as he led me out of the Spry Cat (which was still rollicking despite the late hour) and down the street, heading north. I wasn't exactly sure where we were going, but I knew that if he planned to sneak up to the surface, there was really only one place to go: the northernmost stairway out of the Underground. It led up to Dionech Street, a seedy avenue full of popular gambling parlors and taverns. Not only was it far from the Capitol's busy center, the guards at the staircase were often drunk enough from Dionech's fine selection of bars that they easily could be persuaded into letting you pass up to the surface for an hour or so. Provided, of course, that you paid them a little something in return.

When we arrived at the dark stairway, hewn into the moist, mossy grey stone, Erwin discreetly sidled up to the Garrison officer posted at the bottom. He muttered something to the guard - which, although I was standing very close to him, I didn't catch. After a moment, the ruddy-faced guard nodded. Erwin handed him an envelope that I assumed contained a fair amount of shillings, as it emitted metallic clicks as he passed it over.

"Tell th' guy at the top - Maverick's 's name - that I sent ya," he slurred, loudly enough that I could hear him properly this time. "And 'and him some shillin's like youse gave me and you're right set. For the hour, anyway." He chuckled in a way that made disconcerting prickles tiptoe over my skin.

Erwin thanked him, and we made our way up the wide subterranean staircase towards the surface. In spite of the late hour and my exhausted muscles, I had to keep myself from running up them. I didn't often get the chance to see what the world was like aboveground, as it was extremely difficult to sneak up without the proper paperwork, or without a heavy bribe. It was rare for me to scrape up any sort of savings, and it was hardly worth it to blow them all for an hour's frolic aboveground. I could count the times I'd seen the open sky on one hand. Still, each one of those times was undeniably precious, and I couldn't wait to see what Erwin had in store for me now.

At the top of the staircase, Erwin handed another envelope of money to the guard - Maverick - and repeated what the first guard had told him to say. Maverick squinted into the envelope and sighed, wavering on his feet. He appeared, if possible, even more drunk than the guard at the bottom had been.

"Right, so's I let you through. You got an hour to do whatever and then you better be back, or I'm alertin' the boss that I've got an Underground escapee. You see? Don't make me do that. One hour."

"Right." Erwin's voice was smooth, curt.

"You two have a good time. One hour," he repeated.

I took Erwin's arm again as we left him behind us, suddenly cowed by the vast expanse of midnight blue sky and unfamiliar buildings. All around us, rowdy bars and taverns vomited noise and garish light onto the dark street. Nevertheless, we seemed to be on the outskirts of town, close to open, grassy fields and stands of trees. Deliciously fresh, cool air rushed into my lungs with every breath, and I sucked it in greedily. So far removed from the heavy, stale atmosphere trapped beneath the ground.

"So, where are we going?" I asked him again, taking my skirt in my right hand and swinging it in time with our steps.

"Well, we're heading out of town, so that should give you a bit of an idea."

"Hmm." I furrowed my brow. "Unfortunately, not really. The forest?" I guessed.

"Close, but not quite. There's something else I want to show you. Love," he added, pulling me closer to his side.

"Hopefully it isn't something I've already seen." I gave him a long look up and down.

"Don't try to be witty with me now. You know we're in public."

"I'm not, I'm not," I assured him, but I whisked my fingers lightly down his arm regardless.

He succeeded in ignoring me. "Keep a level head on your shoulders. We're almost out of town now, and it can be dangerous if you don't know the parts well."

"Well, I think I'm safe with you, sir."

Still, I heeded his advice and shut up. He was right: I had no idea where we were, it was dark, and we were on a bad side of town. And despite this, I felt perfectly safe at his side, unconcerned, unafraid.

The last row of buildings petered out onto a wide boulevard bordered on both sides by shrubs and trees. This was the end of the Capitol; for as far as I could see, the highway continued on through the dense forest beyond. I could make out another town further along it, far in the distance, its lights twinkling through the rapidly falling midnight. No carriages or wagons rumbled by at the time, but the bricks of the road were worn from heavy traffic.

Erwin led me down the highway a ways, before turning off the road and following a dirt footpath into the forest. I had to watch my step carefully, as it was uneven and hard to see in the darkness. Strange animal calls echoed in the forest all around us, but again, I didn't feel afraid. Erwin's arm remained steady intertwined with my own.

The path turned uphill abruptly, and my thin shoes fought for purchase against the slippery dirt. I wondered how much further we were going to go. I hadn't counted on taking such a hike, and I couldn't afford to ruin my only pair of shoes ... Still, I trusted Erwin. I kept pace with him until the path crested the ridge of the hill and flattened once again across the hilltop. I caught my breath at the beauty of the clearing at the top. Tall, fuzzy heads of grass waved serenely on either side of the path, and purple asters dotted the clearing, shining palely in the starlight. It seemed to me like the earth itself was glowing.

"Well, how do you like the surprise?"

I looked up at him. A rare half-smile played around his mouth, and he pulled me against him by my waist. My breath hitched at the sudden closeness.

"I like it so far," I murmured.

He leaned down and kissed me softly on my jaw. "Did you look up yet?"

Look up? A little confused at what he meant, I glanced upwards.

The hill was high enough that many of the larger trees didn't obstruct my view of the night sky - which must have been why he chose this spot. High, high above us, an incomprehensible amount of stars peppered the dark expanse of indigo sky. Impossibly, they looked like they shone every color of the rainbow, so clearly did their light reach me that far below. If he had told me they were each diamonds he had placed up there, one by one, just for me, I would have believed him in that moment.

So there they were. I knew they always were, logically speaking, but now I knew for sure. The little girl who still dwelled inside of me almost wanted to start crying.

"It's beautiful," I breathed.

"It is," he replied gently.

For a moment, he held me there in silence.

"I know this is selfish," he said, "but whenever you see the stars, I want you to think of me."

POV: Erwin

The clearing was beautiful - the sky was beautiful, the stars were beautiful. She was beautiful. It was all beautiful to me; she always had the magic to make it so. The stars reflected in the dark irises of her eyes, and I let myself be lost in the innocent wonder and hope echoed in them.

God. We were so lucky then, to be alive, to be together. I gave into that feeling of invincibility and made my selfish request.

"Think of me."

"I think of you even when I can't see them."

"Still. I want you to remember this moment especially - how you're feeling. That way we can never be truly apart."

"I'll look at the stars and think of you, Erwin."

"Good." I tilted her jaw up towards me. "No matter what. That's where I'll be."

Chapter Text

My back is aching. It's ten in the morning, and too blazingly hot for early October, and my back is aching.

The convergence of this trio of facts, paired with the slight pang in my left temple, put me in a decidedly sour mood. I'm not looking forward to training today at all. At least, I remind myself, it isn't Shadis. One of his colleagues domineers over the little gorge instead, moving between training groups and shouting commands. He's equally as stone-faced and harsh, but less verbally abusive than Shadis is. It's decidedly an improvement; I already feel less likely to break into tears from the slightest correction.

"You ready to try again?"

Xander's deep, tranquil voice nudges through the cranky miasma clouding my consciousness. I shake away my irritability for a moment to lift one corner of my mouth into a lopsided grin.

"Right, I forgot," I apologize. "Sorry. Should I rush you again?"

He bobs his head. "Don't hold back this time, all right? You're not going to even get a chance to hurt me, so don't worry about that."

"Is that a challenge?" I joke, lifting my chin and glaring teasingly down my nose at him.

"Sure, if it'll get your ass in gear!"

I laugh and shake my head, then grip the prop wooden dagger I'm holding with both hands. Shifting my weight into the balls of my feet, I tense the tendons in my ankles, poised to spring forward. Xander watches me in an almost detached way. As if he's a botanist regarding a completely ordinary plant - but appreciating it from an entirely new angle.

He seems too relaxed to defend himself properly, so I decide to strike. Quickly, before I can chicken out of it, I hurl myself towards him. As soon as I'm within combat distance, I twist downward, aiming for his shins, but he somehow predicts my movement. Just as I reach to tackle his knees to the ground I feel two strong arms encircle my waist from above.

"Woah!" I cry out as my feet leave the ground.

He holds me upside down, my back pressed flush against his taut stomach. The sky kaleidoscopes at my feet.

"Give up yet?"

I squirm beneath his grasp, annoyed at the smug tone in his voice. Blood pounds in my head, and I'm starting to feel a little ill from being held upside down. "All right, all right! I get it! You can let me down now."

He doesn't simply drop me to the ground, as I fear he will. Instead, he bends his knees until he can gently release me onto the cool gravel.

I lay on the ground and close my eyes, trying to recenter myself. My stomach is still in disarray after tumbling over itself, and I swallow hard. I could have gotten off a lot worse. Xander's obviously taking it easy on me - I'm not even a threat to him.

After a moment of recovery, I open my eyes again to see Xander staring down at me.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He sounds genuinely concerned, so I flash him a reassuring smile. "No, no. I'm fine."

The worried wrinkles smooth from his brow. Suddenly, I'm struck by how relaxed he looks right now, in this environment. The sleeves of his white uniform shirt are rolled up past his elbows, exposing his tanned, thickly veined forearms. He hasn't shaved in a couple days, so stubbly blond fuzz covers his cheeks and jaw. Neither of these things make him look scruffy, though; instead, he looks rugged, almost handsome. At the same time, I'm painfully aware that this ruggedness is as dangerous as it is refreshing, like a sleeping wild beast who could wake up to kill me at any moment. Luckily, he doesn't seem to want to hurt me.

I twist to my feet suddenly, as if I've been burned. His eyes hold only kindness, and nothing more -- I have nothing to fear from him. Xander is quickly becoming one of the solid anchors in the dark, vast, stormy sea surrounding me. I have nothing to fear from him.

He watches me scramble to my feet, his green eyes gleaming. "You're sure you're fine?"

"Yes, yes!" I wave my hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry so much about me, you know. I'm training to be a soldier. I've got to learn how to be tough sometime."

He shrugs, stuffing is large hands in the pockets of his pants. "Well, I can't help it. I never would want you to suffer on my account, whether or not it toughens you up in the end."

"That's a gallant statement to make!" I laugh, stooping to scoop the wooden dagger back up off the ground. "Anyway, I'm going to try again. I promise you it won't be as easy this time!"

"Would you like to switch positions? I can be the bad guy," he offers.

"I'm going to try one more time, and then we can switch," I say, brushing off the seat of my pants in preparation to spar again.

In spite of my bold words, I fail to live up to them. I decide to engage him head-on by aiming my fist straight for his throat, but of course he is able to deflect it. I pummel his forearms, which he had raised to shield his face from my blows. It has about the same effect as a solitary moth fluttering furiously against a lit window -- in other words, utterly ineffective. In fact, I'm probably wearing myself out more than him.

I take a step back for a second, huffing, to try to catch my breath. He takes advantage of my break to advance on the offensive and reaches for the dagger in my hand. He easily wrenches it from my grasp, twisting my wrist in such a way that doesn't hurt, but causes my fingers to fall open at once. He's standing very close to me.

"You're disarmed," he says in a low voice. Pieces of slightly damp blond hair hang in his eyes. "I win."

Around us, other pairs of trainees continue with the drill, but their voices disappear.

For some reason, I feel ill again -- like he's somersaulted me through the air for a second time -- and my heart is careening like a spooked mare.

"Right, yeah. You won," I mutter. I take a step backwards, away from his confusing presence.

He grins triumphantly and the stagnant spell breaks, releasing the chatter of the surrounding groups and filling the air around us with sound once more. The sun beats down on my exposed nape; sweat bursts from my skin, under my arms and across my forehead.

"So now do you want to switch?" he asks again.

I nod my head, defeated. "Sure."

I hand him the dagger hilt first out of habit, even though the blade is only wood. He takes it from me softly. It looks diminutive and tiny beneath his broad, corded knuckles.

"All right then." His grin slides off his face, replaced with a stoic, carefully neutral expression. "I guess I'll be the bad guy."

As he backs up so there's ten paces between us, I notice our supervisor winding around groups near us. He stops next to one pair and makes large, instructive gestures with his arms. I wonder what he could be critiquing them for. A lot of groups have been grumbling about the seeming futility of the exercise - why learn how to fight humans when we all want to kill Titans? - and as a result not everyone is participating as energetically as Xander and I. I know better, though. I've heard, and ardently believe, Erwin's theory about humanity outside the walls. And if those humans turn out to be hostile, I'd like to be able to take care of any enemy in my midst, using my own fists.

Determination rejuvenated, I raise my arms to cover my face and shift my weight forward again. Xander regards me through the gap between my forearms, ten paces away and prepared to strike. His eyes flash utterly serious now.

Breath fills my lungs and makes me feel light as air. We watch each other, a mere yard apart.

Suddenly, his whole body tenses, the muscles in his forearm rippling as he grips the dagger tighter. I feel my muscles seize to subconsciously mimic his movement, and soon they quiver with fatigue as he remains in place, unmoving.

When is he going to move? I grumble to myself. We've been standing here forever.

Almost as soon as the thought forms in my head, though, he pounces. I brace myself for the wall of flesh hurtling towards me but, of course, he catches me off guard. I'm not prepared at all for his first heavy blow.

He aims directly at my forearms and bats them away with one punch. Not enough force to shatter them like twigs, but enough that I'm nowhere near stable enough to deflect it. The difference in strength is evident; it's why he doesn't bother tricking me with feints. All he has to do is hit me repeatedly and I'll buckle, overwhelmed by his brute onslaught.

Fighting fire with fire will obviously not work here. I need to outsmart him.

As he rains blow after blow on my upper chest and now-exposed head, I pretend to be on the verge of surrender. I labor my breathing, purposely make my arms tremble. Inside, I'm coming up with a plan to get the knife out of his hand.

If I can somehow get ahold of it and drop to the ground, like a stone ... my body weight should be enough to tear it from his grasp.

I scuttle back a few steps, then pivot sharply on my left foot. Xander's latest punch flails harmlessly in the air where my stomach had been seconds earlier. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it, and I don't let the tiny success distract me, either. Before I can psych myself out again, I make my move.

My heart gallops, adrenaline-crazy, as I dart around Xander. He spins to follow me. This is the chance I've been waiting for -- I hold the upper hand with him being forced to track me like this. He's off-balance. Emboldened, I stop running circles around him to meet him head on.

He has to screech to a halt in order to keep from crashing into me. I take advantage of his momentary confusion to lunge for the knife in his hand.

I think I got him!

The wooden blade is mere centimeters from my fingers -- I hear him suck in a breath through his teeth -- and yet ...

His palms crash against my shoulders and we tumble to the ground, which swooshes up to meet us in a whirlwind of terracotta color. All of the breath in my body jumps out in a single sharp exhalation as I hit the ground. Hard. Xander's on top of me.

All I can see are his eyes, dark with adrenaline and single-minded determination. His scent, heavy and damp, like smoke. The sound of his pants in my ear, the grumble of his breath on my neck.

It's more than discomfort now. Terror tastes harsh, like blindingly cold water. My body is bathed in it, frozen in place. He's so close to me and it shouldn't scare me but it does. Then there are red eyes - so cold and so red that they can't possibly be his. How can this be happening? The breathing turns to growls. My vision splinters with triangles of hot white teeth.

It's just Xander. It's Xander! How many minutes have passed? It can't be many but it feels like an eternity. It's Xander. I'm Sofia. It's Xander.

I'm ...

For a moment this doesn't feel like the truth. I feel utterly removed from my body, detached from the memories and experiences I used to know.

I see the black shapes again; the same shapes I saw when I passed out the morning of Erwin's death. They hurtle towards me, rumbling like horses hooves and screaming like a panicked whinny. It's hell. Where I am - the dark, the eyes, the teeth, the shapes; the screams; the growls -- it's hell.

My heart screams in terror. I'm vaguely aware of my limbs struggling for release from the paralysing darkness. Someone, help me-!

"All right, you two, let's keep the public rutting to a minimum!"

The sharp words of the supervisor crack around my senses like a whip. Immediately, the nightmarish images dissipate, my terror quickly following. I'm back on the gravelly floor of the gorge, and Xander is still pinning me down. Everything's fine.

"Get up, get up!" the supervisor prods us. "There's no reason to keep holding her down, cadet. She's already incapacitated."

Xander lifts himself away from me and straightens, offering the officer a placid, apologetic smile. Nobody else would think he's embarrassed but I spot the red blotches appearing on the tops of his ears.

"Sorry, sir," he says. "I just got carried away."

"In the heat of the moment?" The supervisor's voice is cruelly sarcastic.

Xander isn't fazed. He responds with a cool "Perhaps."

The officer frowns at his tone, but it's impertinence is too veiled to warrant a lecture. He turns to me instead. "You all right, girl?"

I've scrambled to my knees by this point and have calmed my breathing somewhat. Still, I jump at being directly addressed. "Y-yes, I'm all right," I stammer. "I think I hit my head a little too hard when I fell, though."

"Yes. I noticed you seemed a little dazed - you hardly tried to defend yourself after you were tackled," the officer explains. "That's why I decided to intervene. Cadet Jackson over here didn't seem to want to stop attacking. I was afraid he'd commit some rapscallionry and take advantage of you while you were incapacitated."

Xander glances away, his fists clenched, appropriately horrified. I blink in surprise at the crack in his usually remarkable stoicism.

I jump to his defense at once. Even if I was terrified, it wasn't his fault, not really. "It wasn't like that at all, sir. But I appreciate your concern," I say, heaving myself to my feet.

Neither man proffers his arm to help me up. "I'll let this one slide," the supervisor sighs. "But next time, Jackson -- halt with the drill as soon as your partner can't move anymore. We don't need any unnecessary injuries. Training's short enough as it is."

Xander and I both nod and give the superior officer a salute. I sneak a glance at Xander as the officer stalks on to the next group. His face is entirely unreadable, except for his blood-red ears.

Chapter Text

They've sure changed the training protocols. I glance down the column of trainees assembled in front of me, Shadis, and Hanji. Almost every single face betrays at least a little bit of fear, either in the slight tilt of the eyebrows or the nervous contraction of the pupils. I'm used to reading fear on people's faces. Especially on new recruits. Especially in titan territory.

It's hard to believe that Dhalis approved this extended training exercise. In fact, I think Shadis is batshit crazy for even suggesting it. To send groups of trainees into the field beyond Wall Maria -- which is still not completely cleared of titans, by the way -- is batshit crazy. I don't care that it's giving them field experience and I don't care that Shadis has gathered a large group of Garrison soldiers to shadow them in case of an emergency. It's still batshit crazy.

I can't see Sofia Arawen from where I'm standing, but I know she must be somewhere in the column. Knowing her and her enthusiasm for training, she's probably jumping for joy at the chance to do something stupid and risk her life.

"Alright, cadets. Do you understand the drill? Remember it's a simplified long range scouting formation, so there will be only two cart convoys and four enemy detection squads. No special ops and no central cart convoys. Just those six squads and the command squad. Understand?" Shadis shouts at the trainees. "You know the duties of each group. Now I'll assign each of you to one of them."

Hanji nudges my shoulder. "Where do you think Sofia will be assigned?" they mutter into my ear. "Hopefully one of the cart convoys, right? Just in case there is a titan incident or something."

"Would you be quiet?" I snarl. I don't even want to think about the numerous negative possible outcomes of this ridiculous exercise. I'm stressed out immensely already, without them adding to my anxiety.

"Hughes, Kars, Larson, Arawen, Macintosh. You're in the command squad. Hughes, you're the acting commander," Shadis barks, almost as if he heard Hanji's question. "Go over to your horses and mount. We'll structure the rest of the formation around your positioning."

"No pressure," I sigh, watching as Sofia sidles out from the back row and follows her fellow trainees over to where the horses are waiting, a dozen yards away. Her hair is tied back with a length of dark brown cord. I'm shocked at how full her figure is now - she looks healthy and strong. So different from the starving, grief-stricken woman I met in the Underground, her steps are firm and sure in her thigh-high brown boots. With her tan training corps jacket and large blade holsters at her hips, she looks like any other cadet, teetering on the precipice of active duty. Shadis wasn't lying when he reported that she was adapting well to training.

"You're thinking that she looks good," Hanji comments needlessly and annoyingly. "Fit to be a soldier, even?"

"Shouldn't you be paying attention to Shadis?" I reply through gritted teeth. Never mind that they had guessed exactly what I had been thinking.

"I have the brainpower to focus on two things at once. Frankly, I find the girl much more interesting, don't you agree?"

I roll my eyes and refuse to respond again, but they're absolutely right. Shadis' long-winded explanation of the placement of each squad in the long-range scouting formation definitely isn't something I haven't heard before.

Shadis dismisses the rest of the trainees group by group until they're all situated by their horses in proper formation, ready to mount. All assembled, the simplified formation fills the entirety of the clearing that we've gathered in, and once they start moving I figure it'll cover a square mile or so. A relatively small distance compared to the five miles the formation usually covers. Still, I suppose it reassures me that Sofia will be in the central column, in the position that receives the most information about the surroundings and is also the best protected. If the formation does encounter a titan (which, admittedly, they probably won't), she won't be in a position to engage with it.

"The end goal is Wall Rose, correct?" I say to Hanji.

They bob their head, ponytail bouncing. "Correct. We'll be waiting there, to see from the higher vantage point if there's any titans following them."

"Right." At the current moment, we're probably forty or so miles from the wall, off a main road that leads to the Klorva District, the westernmost node protruding from Wall Rose. The terrain from here to there is relatively flat, with adequate tree cover to necessitate an escape if need be. There's a couple of streams and maybe a gorge or two that can be easily avoided. It's a good location -- not too far to the south, where the titans are more concentrated, but also not too far north, where the mountainous landscape would be impossible for the formation to trevasse. I guess Shadis has put some thought into his batshit crazy plan.

"All right, Commander Zoe, Captain Levi."

I snap to attention at once as Shadis refers to Hanji and me.

"You two will head to Klorva a little ahead of the formation, between the two front detection squads," he says, in a quieter voice than he's been using with the trainees. "You'll keep pace with them somewhat, but then pull ahead when you're within five miles of the wall so you're waiting there a bit ahead of time. Make sure you're not interfering or communicating with the formation, but feel free to note any observations about a trainee's performance. We'll be having a debrief later tonight."

"You got it, sir," Hanji exclaims. "Will you be riding with us?"

"No. I'll be riding ahead of the formation. I hope to be the first to reach Klorva, to get a better aerial view of the formation as it comes up to the destination."

"I noticed you didn't assign any relay squads," I interrupt. "Any particular reason for that, or...?"

Shadis rubs his shoulder, rolling it slightly beneath his palm. "I thought you'd ask that," he sighs. "But I figured we could do without relays for now. The formation is small enough not to necessitate them. Also, with the Garrison members already stationed in the surrounding area, we've got enough men to send messages to trainees if need be."

I suppose his explanation makes sense, but I still feel uneasy. I'd feel better if the inexperienced cadets didn't have to rely on easily confused flare signals to communicate -- especially on their first mission in titan territory. He's the boss, though.

"All right." Shadis claps his hands together. "I'm going to tell them to start. If you would mount and take your position between the first two squads - that would be excellent."

"Of course." Hanji smiles at him.

As he walks away, I nudge them between the ribs with my elbow. "Kiss-ass."

"I am simply polite, Levi, I don't know what you're talking about."

Grinning, I swing up onto my black horse. I adjust the reins and give her a little pat on the neck before urging her forward. Hanji follows me on their brown mare.

We pull forward out of the clearing, until the chatter of the nervous trainees fades behind us, although I can still see flickers of their light-colored uniforms through the trees. If Shadis has assembled them properly, there should be one squad to our left and one to our right, both with around eight people. These two front detection squads have arguably the most important, and most dangerous, job, so it makes sense that Hanji and I will be assisting them.

Behind us, I hear a chirp of surprise, then the pop of a flare gun. Green smoke arcs overhead, tracing a hazy line through the sapphire sky. It brings back bad memories.

"All right, go, start, get a move on!" Shadis bellows, his voice echoing impressively throughout the clearing. "That's what the green means! Straight on, let's go!"

I huff a small laugh to myself and tap my heels against my horse. We start off at an easy pace, a light canter -- not the top of what the horses are capable of, but still quick.

The first hour is relatively uneventful. We change course twice to get around rough terrain but for the most part stay on our due easterly route towards Wall Rose. It's strange, riding in formation with so many people again; even though I can barely see the two detection squads on either side of us, I can't help but feel reassured knowing they're there. Riding in a group again. It's something I didn't know I'd miss. Feeling the rumble of hundreds of hooves all around you, squinting up at the sky to spot a smoke flare, each soldier doing their own little task to ensure the success of the mission as a whole. Independent as I am, it feels good to be a part of a many-armed machine, even if this particular machine isn't as well-oiled as the former Scout Regiment was.

And there's been no titans so far, at least none that have threatened the formation. Perhaps the Garrison officers are dealing with them silently before they can even reach us, who knows.

We make good time, even staying at a canter. By the time we reach the second hour of the drill, I can see Wall Rose, and the Klorva District, looming in the distance, only a handful of miles away.

"So, what do you think?" I call to Hanji over the noise of hoofbeats. I crane my neck backwards, staring at the tiny figures of the command squad directly behind us.

"Should we pull forward now, do you mean?" Hanji calls back to me.

"Yeah."

They squint at the wall ahead. "I think so. We're maybe six miles off."

"You wanna ride over to the detection squad on the left, and tell them to keep on course? I can take the right. I don't want them to speed up and follow us."

"That's a good idea," they call. "Go tell them and then we'll meet back in the middle before pushing forward again."

"Roger."

I turn sharply and gallop towards to the squad at our right. Once they spot me riding over, the trainees regard me with shock and nervousness as I approach, startled by my sudden appearance.

"Captain Levi?" one hollers. "Is something wrong?"

I take a deep, steeling breath. I hate dealing with trainees. "Everything's fine. Continue on course, following the command squad's instruction. I'm going to pull ahead of the formation, but you're not to follow me. Understand?"

They stare at me.

"Understand?" I repeat, louder this time.

They bob their heads.

"You should always use verbal cues when communicating in formation," I mutter to myself, but I trust that they have at least a vague understanding of their instructions, so I turn back towards Hanji again.

We meet up in the center and then urge our horses into the fastest gallop they can manage. It's a considerable speed - these horses are specifically bred to be swifter than the wind. We leave the rest of the formation behind easily. I predict we'll clear the six or so miles and make it to the wall in ten minutes - maybe less.

"Wanna race?" Hanji offers jovially.

"We're on a mission, Commander."

"I know, I know," they sigh. "It's just been so long since I've ridden like this!"

I close my eyes against the cold air whipping towards me. "Yeah, it has."

"How do you think Sofia's managing, being in the command squad?"

"We can talk about it at the debrief," I yell. "I can't hear you all that well."

"What?"

"At the debrief! We can talk at the debrief!"

Hanji laughs. "I still cannot hear you!"

A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. It's nice to see them enjoying themselves again, even for just a little while. They've been so reserved and cold -- and I get it, given their situation -- but part of me misses the old Hanji. The bright, warm Hanji. I'm glad to know that person isn't completely lost.

I start to relax a little. Untensing my hands on the reins. Letting my shoulders melt away from my ears.

As soon as I do, I hear a crack behind us, and my muscles seize again at the ominous sound.

Hanji whips around. I don't dare.

"It looks like there's a red flare!" they shout, their voice almost lost in the wind, but I see the disturbed glint in their one good eye. "It's coming from behind!"

Chapter Text

POV: Sofia

The titans are so close we in the command squad, at the front of the formation, can hear them running behind us, but the forest is dense enough that I can't see them yet. I can hear the panicked screams of my fellow trainees along with the crash of heavy footsteps, and I wonder what's happening to them. Nobody's hurt, right? I hope not, but for the titans to be so close to the command squad ... they have to have overtaken both cart convoys behind us, as well as the rear enemy detection squads.

Maxwell Hughes, the broad-chested, usually indomitable man Shadis chose to be acting commander, stares straight ahead, slightly slack-jawed. I can tell he's frantically trying to get his act together, to remember what he's supposed to do in this situation. But none of us have even seen a titan before, much less been pursued by one. Terror is thick on my tongue.

"Max!" I scream. "The flare! Fire a flare to change course!"

His eyes, still distant, slide over to me, where I'm galloping as fast as I can at his right side.

"I'll fire a red flare to let the rest of the squads know there's titans in our sector! But you need to change course!"

"But it's coming from behind!" Isla Larson, another one of the stronger trainees, yells to me from Hughes' left side. Her face glows a delicate shade of green. "Where the hell are we supposed to change course to if it's coming from behind?! They'll just follow us!"

Behind me, I hear Lailin whimper in fear.

Ferrence Kars, the last trainee in the command squad, shouts up from the back. "It doesn't matter! The formation's dissolving anyway! Can't you see the cart convoys catching up to us?"

I crane my neck to stare behind us, where, past Lailin, I spot figures riding hard through the woods. Maybe thirty or so: the entirety of both convoys. In spite of what that means for the five of us - the command squad has failed to hold formation, essentially, and Shadis will surely scream at us for it later - I can't help but feel relieved. At least nobody seems seriously hurt, just scared out of their wits.

Just in case the front enemy detection squads haven't picked up on what's happening yet, I dig into my saddlebags for a red smoke cartridge, snap it onto the front of my flare gun's barrel, point the gun upwards, and fire. The pop and scarlet smoke seem to snap Hughes out of his alarmed trance.

"Just ride as hard as you can for the wall!" he bellows. "Let the Garrison soldiers take control of the titans and run!"

The cart convoy cadets have caught up to us by this point and catch his order. Most of them nod their heads in terrified agreement.

I can't help but notice how exhausted their horses look, though. Scout Regiment horses are bred for stamina, and can maintain a speed of close to 40 miles per hour for extended periods of time, but the cart convoys have been pushing them far beyond that maximum. And I don't know how fast the titans are running.

"Have you seen the titans?" I shout to one of the cart convoy cadets. "How fast are they? How many are there?"

The girl stares at me for a second before registering my question. "There's three! All ten metres! But they're fast!" She glances behind her shoulder, and I follow her gaze, spotting three monstrously huge forms galloping through the forest at us, one on all fours. "They've almost caught up with us!"

We break out of the treeline and onto a grassy plain, dotted with only a few trees. Wall Maria is rises like a beacon of hope in the distance, and some of the trainees cry out in relieved excitement at the sight of it. Me, though? I can't stand being on open terrain like this, where ODM gear is all but useless. An uneasy, itchy feeling spreads across the back of my neck as I urge my horse into an even faster gallop. Foam from the horse's mouth sprays across my knuckles.

"Where the hell are those Garrison soldiers?!" Larson screams in desperation.

The titans are clearly visible now, their mouths swinging open and hanging with syrupy tendrils of saliva. Their bodies twist strangely as they sprint after us. The one on all fours scrambles across the ground like a deformed, amputee spider. I would have laughed (it was morbidly humorous) if I wasn't so afraid of being snapped up in its jaws.

"I think the Garrison soldiers are with the enemy detection squads!" Kars returns. "But look, all four of those squads are too far ahead of us by now!"

"Just keep going!" Hughes hollers. "Someone at the wall will take care of it!"

This is a risky plan. Half of the training regiment haven't been cleared to use ODM gear yet. They're the ones Shadis delegated to the cart convoys, since they weren't expected to make contact with any hostile titans. Now, though, that strategy is biting us in the ass. The only people with ODM gear in this current group are Hughes, Larson, Lailin, and I.

I don't like his leadership style, I realise, even though who am I to pass any judgements. "It's too risky to rely on someone else to save us," I scream at him. "What happens once we get to the wall and can't go any further?! We'll all die!"

"Arawen, who's the fucking acting commander here?"

I bite my tongue, seething, but don't reply. We're probably only two miles off from the wall now. I can see the mounted figures of the enemy detection squads milling at the bottom already, waiting to be loaded onto the platform pulley systems and pulled safely to the top of the wall. Some of them use their ODM gear to scale the wall on their own.

"Fuck this," I mutter under my breath. "I'm not sitting around waiting for all of us to get fucking killed."

What I'm planning to do will probably antagonise Hughes, but at this point I don't care. I'm one of the only four who's cleared to use ODM gear - I'm one of the only three who could save themselves once we get to the wall. That seems too selfish to me. I have to use my ODM gear to fend off these titans before anybody dies.

I pull back on the reins abruptly, forcing my horse to slide to a stop. Lailin quickly swerves to avoid colliding with me. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Sofia?" she cries in agitation, staring at me as she continues to gallop forward.

I don't bother responding and wrest my horse around, so I'm facing the opposite way as the rest of the trainees. Away from Wall Maria, towards the titans. The cart convoy cadets stare at me like I'm completely insane as they whip past me. I think I see Xander among them.

"Arawen! What the fuck!" Hughes' angry voice bellows from behind me, sounding vaguely like Shadis.

I kick the horse into a careening gallop again and unsheathe my blades. My heart, strangely, beats quite evenly in my chest. My nerves zip with frantic adrenaline, feeling like hot wires wrapping around my muscles. Up close, the titans are just as terrifying - and I can smell their rank, hungry odour. The earth is trembling.

Mercifully, I spot a lone tree not too far to my left. I aim my hips towards it and squeeze the trigger on my blade handle. The spikes shoot out from the two points at my hips, trailing strong metal cords behind them, and embed into the upper trunk of the tree. Just like you practiced before, I remind myself. Just hold your core strong and be ready to catch yourself - let the cords do the rest. I push away my insecurity (You've only practiced using real ODM gear like five times before! my mind screams at me), and release the trigger. I'm pulled towards the top of the tree as the cord recoils, ears humming with the familiar zipping sound.

I catch myself on the tree trunk without injuring myself. Step one, complete. Now, to worry about actually killing these things.

One of them has spotted me (small feat, considering I was charging straight at it), and has started to reach up to my current location. It's far enough beneath me that I think I can take it from this angle. Before I can intimidate myself too much, I aim again and pull the trigger, before allowing myself to be pulled towards the beast's nape. As I fall I raise my arms so both blades are angled over my right shoulder. It's incorrect positioning - Shadis has screamed at me about it before. I can't be bothered about technique now, though. When I reach the titan's nape, I twist downwards, allowing the rotation of my body to wrench my arms downwards, slicing powerfully through the titan's tough flesh. Thick, pungent blood spurts from the deep wounds. My boots and forearms are soaked.

Before I can celebrate this first victory, I need to get back to safety. I retract the cords and their sharp tips from the titan's nape and zip back up to the top of the tree again.

By this point both of the other titans have noticed me, and they make a beeline for the tree as well. The steam rising from the first titan's corpse obscures my view of them. I curse under my breath, but there's nothing to be done about it now. I'll have to do the best I can to deal with both of them - somehow.

I decide to go for the other upright titan first. That way, once it's dead, I can use the higher vantage point of its nape to go straight to the crawling titan without having to scale the tree again in between. It'll be hard. Probably well beyond my current skills - it seems like the kind of plan only Captain Levi could pull off.

Again, I don't let myself think about it too much. I take care of the second titan the same as the first - aiming for the nape, flying towards it, and twisting my blades through its neck - and I don't have time to pause before moving on to the next attack. The corpse I'm standing on is falling, and before long it'll be too low for me to attack the last titan. Quickly, I try to recenter myself and shoot the spike from my right hip.

My heart fails as it misses, flying past the titan before dangling uselessly towards the ground.

"Shit!" I need to move back to the tree, but I don't know if I'll make it in time. The four-legged titan lunges towards me, its mouth wide, poised to swallow me whole, and I haven't recalled my right spike yet. I aim with the other hip, on my non-dominant side, and pray.

POV: Zeke

Admittedly, she's quite stupid. Gallant, but stupid.

I knew from the second she spun her horse around what she was planning. Actually, I knew from the moment those titans appeared from behind, and the cart convoys I was riding with scattered, that she would try some heroic debauchery like this.

I'm not mad at her at all - but I'm not amused, either. I just don't get it. I'll never really understand people like her. Nevertheless, as I watched her ride away, I decided I wanted to see what it would be like to be the hero for once.

By the time I reach her, she's already killed two of the titans, but she's in a tight spot. She missed on the last shot. I'm not an expert on ODM gear by any means (hell, I wasn't even certified to use it for this mission), but I figure it must be hard to aim the nasty little buggers. She's probably going to die now that she missed her first shot, though. The last titan will take advantage of her blunder and snatch her before she can get back to safety.

For some reason, I can't stomach standing by and watching that happen, even though I'm technically unarmed. There is still one thing I can do, however - and that's distract the monster for a moment until she regains her bearings.

I gallop alongside the titan and yell as loudly as I can, not any word but just the loudest syllable I can manage. It's a little power of mine, which is probably too risky to use, but I'm not thinking too clearly. I will the titan to stop. It freezes at once, mid-lunge, its jaws mere feet from Sofia.

She takes advantage of the monster's confusion and zips to the top of a nearby tree, and even though she looks shocked to see me, she doesn't fumble through the maneuver.

"Xander!" she shouts. "Get away from it! You don't have ODM gear!"

I want to smile in spite of my dangerous situation. She sounds almost ... concerned about me. It feels nice. Still, I recognize that I still have to deceive her; she can't know the powers I have, obviously.

"Kill it, then! Hurry up!" I yell back, hoping my voice sounds distressed enough.

She bares her teeth, perhaps annoyed at me for taking what appears to be an obvious risk, and attacks the titan's nape. She succeeds this time, probably because its easy to kill an unmoving target.

When it's all over, she lands on the ground next to me. She's covered in sticky, dark titan blood, and her arms are quivering with exhaustion. The adrenaline's probably wearing off now.

"Why did it stop like that?" she pants, stooping over and supporting herself by placing her hands on her slightly bent knees.

"I have no clue," I lie. "But I'm glad it did. Sorry, I know it was reckless, coming out here unarmed like that."

"No, you're -" she sucks in a deep breath. "You're fine. I'm glad you seemed to have distracted it. If you hadn't done that I'd be dead."

She huffs out a laugh, but it sounds like more of a sob.

I watch her catch her breath for a second, utterly nonplussed. Sure, she's obviously shaken by her close encounter, but then why risk it in the first place?

Her forehead shines with sweat; wet tendrils of hair that have escaped her ponytail wave in the slight breeze. She's getting blood from her hands and blades on the thighs of her pants, and yet she reaches a scarlet-drenched hand to her face to swipe some of the more annoying tendrils away. For the first time I appreciate why a woman like her would grace the final thoughts of two men. She must have been terrified but she pushed through with a certain grace one might call ignorance. I thought she was stupid - I still do. But there's a determined beauty about her uphill battle for survival that I imagine could be endearing to a man.

"Call your horse," I say after a pause. "We should get to Wall Maria. Shadis is gonna have a hell of a lot to say to you."

Chapter Text

"Arawen, you've got some balls going against your acting commander and risking your life like that."

In the temporary barracks that night, Shadis berates Sofia in front of the panel of Garrison officers, myself, and Hanji, who've all gathered for the day's debrief. I can't say I envy her. He makes her stand at the head of the table in the long, narrow, dimly lit room, where he can criticize her in full view of everyone present. I'd be amused if I didn't want to kill her myself.

"Do you have anything you'd like to say for yourself?" Shadis demands.

She stares straight ahead, obviously afraid to look him in the eye. "Well, sir, nobody else was coming, and I didn't want any of my men to die. None of them had ODM gear, you see."

"Your men?" he repeats.

She realizes her blunder, because she stares at the tabletop without speaking.

"Listen, Arawen, do you really think I'd let a trainee die in one of my extended training exercises? What kind of Training Corps commander do you think I am? A more experienced officer could have taken care of it. In the future, you will do better to obey orders from your superiors and not take unnecessary risks. Do you understand me?"

I couldn't have said it better myself. Sofia raises her eyes slightly so she's staring me right in the face, as if she knows exactly what I'm thinking. Her lips twitch with embarrassment; I'm sure my displeasure is clear on my face.

"I said do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she says, snapping into a sharp salute.

"You'll be on mucking duty - alone - for the next two weeks. You're dismissed."

Sofia bows her head in recognition of the order and sidles out of the meeting room without another word.

"So ..." Hanji smiles at Shadis in an attempt to diffuse the angry energy in the room. "Should we get started with the debrief?"

He inclines his head towards them. "We should. Would you like to open with an overview of how things went on your end?"

They nod. "Of course - for the most part, things went exactly to plan. The front squads up by Levi and I were able to follow the command squad's direction pretty efficiently, so we were able to maneuver around obstacles without much trouble. However, as I'm sure you are all very well aware, it was that last five mile stretch, after Levi and I had pulled away from the formation, that things went to hell."

"What exactly did the two of you do when you saw the red flare?" a Garrison soldier asks.

Hanji glances at me, inviting me to answer the question. I clear my throat.

"We were close enough to the wall that we decided to scale it to get a better picture of what was happening," I explain. "From above we could see that the formation was pretty clearly breaking down. The rear enemy detection squads were much too forward, so the rear cart convoy was completely exposed. As such, they were extremely susceptible to attack."

"Yes, that was probably an issue for most of the ride." Shadis frowns. "I'm thinking that the rear detection squads were going a little faster than the rest of the formation and pulled too far ahead relatively early on."

"I guess that explains why a titan got so close to the rear in the first place," the Garrison soldier muses.

"The highest concentration of human activity was at the center of the column. It only follows that the titans would then disregard the smaller squads on the far outer edges and go for the larger central convoys in the middle. It was an oversight on my part, to allow so many malprepared cadets to be stationed there," says Shadis.

"Well, don't beat yourself up," Hanji says brightly. "Trainees will be trainees. What I'd like to know is - what the hell were the Garrison soldiers doing? Why didn't they hold back when they realized the rear detection squads were moving to fast?"

The six Garrison members present shift in their seats, avoiding both Hanji and Shadis' slightly accusatory glances. I raise my eyebrows.

"It's true. Why didn't one of you deal with the titans? You were damn sure the closest."

The most talkative Garrison soldier so far - who seems to be something of their unofficial leader - answers my question. "I guess none of us realized how far up we were. It's our bad. We didn't realize the gravity of the situation until we were practically at the wall."

"So you let a trainee take on three titans, all by herself?" I keep my voice cool and relaxed, but I'm so angry at their stupidity and groundless excuses I could spit.

"Well we - we were too far away! By the time we would have gotten there we thought she'd either be dead already or would have succeeded in killing them," the soldier sputters. "But Richter and Bev started over just in case."

"I think we understand the failures of the expedition now," Shadis says firmly, ending my line of questioning with a warning flare of his nostrils. "Does anyone have any observations about particular trainees they'd like to share with me? Positive or negative."

They've all got a long way to go, I want to say, thinking particularly of the front enemy detection squads Hanji and I had the displeasure of communicating with, but I hold my tongue. Shadis is already clearly tired of my exasperation.

"There were two in the front enemy detection squad I was with," another Garrison soldier pipes up. "I think their names were Escobar and Hubbard - John Escobar and Eliza Hubbard. They did a good job of orienting the group when command switched directions. Hubbard in particular appeared skilled at navigation."

Shadis merely nods and jots something down in his notebook.

"There was also, one girl in the command squad," the Garrison 'leader' says, "Macintosh - she was surprisingly good with ODM gear. I wasn't expecting much from her, but she impressed me."

"Tangentially related, but the cadets in the cart convoys need to put a little more effort in learning how to use ODM gear," I put in quickly. "It's slowing down the efficacy of the whole group."

"Agreed, Ackerman. I'm doing my best with them," Shadis mutters, continuing to write.

I press my lips together and decide not to say anything else.

Hanji jumps to my rescue. "Well, Shadis, how do you think Hughes did? As acting commander?"

He purses his lips and considers Hanji, before sighing and lowering his pen. "I thought for the most part he did relatively well. Like you said, the first eighty miles or so went smoothly. It was his actions at the end, when the formation was compromised, that I took great issue with. Why, what did you think of him?"

"The same." Hanji crosses their arms. "He gave little direction when his formation faced a crisis, besides making a run for it. If that had happened on the field, where there was no wall or superior officers to save his ass, his whole regiment would have died. He froze, that's the truth of it, and obviously didn't trust his own men enough to get the formation out of danger."

"What would you have done in that situation, Commander Zoe?"

"Taken advantage of the fact that the group was acting as a titan lure, essentially, and sent my strongest guys to take care of it. In a normal formation, I would have sent special ops. With this simplified one, I would have sent the only other guys who could use ODM gear to take care of it - Arawen, Macintosh, and Larson. Then I would have gone back and reset the formation, after the danger was eliminated. But what he did, making a break for safety and relying on someone else to save his ass ... it was irresponsible."

"Agreed. A leader can't break down in a crisis," someone notes.

"He didn't even fire the red flare," one of the Garrison soldiers says. "From what the others told me, it was Sofia Arawen who did that."

I roll my eyes. Here we go.

"Sofia - Arawen, that is - did impress me, actually," Hanji notes. They sneak a peek at me, almost imperceptibly. "Even if she was disobeying orders, it's pretty damn impressive that she was able to take down three titans on her own. It's like something Captain Levi would have done."

"Tch." I snort. "No, it is not. I never would have done something so foolish."

"I thought her aptitude for assessing the situation and quickly making a decision was showcased here," Shadis says, ignoring me. "Physical skill aside, she was able to stay relatively calm in a stressful situation and choose what was best for the group's survival. Even if that was above her station in this instance."

"Better than Hughes, anyway," the Garrison member mutters.

"Yes, I would tend to agree. Arawen is certainly commander material."

In spite of my worry, and my anger at her for taking such unnecessary risk, and my uncertainty about her choice to join the military in the first place, I can't help but feel my lips curl up a bit at the corners. Part of me is proud.

~~~~~

"Shadis really thinks you're something!"

Sofia smiles at Hanji, wiping her hair off of her forehead with her hand that's not caked in muck. Outside, the chilly morning air wafts into the stable through the splintery oak doors, which she has thrown open to air the place out. Every so often the sound of a high whinny drifts through as well, from the direction of the pasture where she's let the horses out for their morning exercise, and golden sunshine angles through the high windows.

"Does he! That's why I'm stuck doing morning muck-out by myself for the next two weeks," she moans.

"He called you, and I quote, 'good commander material' at the debrief last night," Hanji tells her. "That's high praise, coming from him."

Sofia flushes and stares at the ground. "Well, truthfully, he didn't seem as mad as I thought he'd be when he yelled at me last night," she admits.

"Yeah, you got off real easy, kid," I say coldly. "If it were me I would have screamed till I was hoarse. That was a real stupid thing you did."

"I know." She's frank, a little sheepish, but not regretful.

I can't tell if she's taking me seriously or not. She's short enough that I can glare directly across into her eyes.

"You do seem to be adapting well to training, though," I continue.

"You think?"

"Don't think I'm going to inflate your ego any more," I warn, but she laughs and waves her hand.

The sound catches me off guard. It's maybe the first time I've heard her laugh; she hasn't changed just physically. She looks happier now, too, as if she's found something else to live for. Her smile's easier, her laugh more free. Yes, completely different from the woman I met in the Underground. I guess it's been four and a half months now.

"Well, Sofia, there's actually something I need to talk to you about." Hanji redirects the conversation. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of informing Levi about the situation with your daughter."

Her ears flame bright red. "Oh, um, right."

It's almost like she shrinks back in on herself in shame. At first I think it's embarrassment at me knowing, but I soon realize it has nothing to do with me at all. I'd forgotten her circumstances for a second - the environment we're in is so different.

"Don't be ashamed of yourself, for being her mother," I say abruptly. "Everyone has a mother, you know. My mother was a prostitute too, so trust me - I know. There's no reason for you to feel unworthy of motherhood."

She blinks. Even though she doesn't say anything, I see her shoulders relax, her jaw unclench. Even her mouth relaxes into a slight smile, in seeming appreciation of my bluntness.

"He's right. And I did confirm, by the way -" Hanji reaches out to pat her on the shoulder. "The girl at the Langel farm is your daughter. She's living near of Dohna village - about five hours northeast of here."

Sofia's eyes immediately brighten, her smile strengthening. "She is? Is she all right?"

"Yes, yes, of course. The Langels take wonderful care of her. Although, I got the impression that she knows she's adopted." Hanji cocks her head. "Also, it seems like Erwin did visit her a handful of times, though they never connected that he was her father."

"What does she look like?" Sofia breathes. "I remember ... her eyes, when she was first born, were blue, just like his. And her hair? Is it still dark?"

I can't help but smile at her curiosity as Hanji patiently answers all of her questions. How tall she is, what her giggle sounds like, what her favorite toys are, if she goes to bed easily. Some of the answers Hanji doesn't know, but they attempt to answer anyway. Silently, I wonder if the kid remembers Erwin at all, or if she's forgotten both of her parents.

After a while, I remind Hanji that we should get going (we've got to get all the way back to the capitol today, after all), and bid goodbye to Sofia. She thanks Hanji, then me, then Hanji again, in an excited, dreamy way that's pretty damn endearing. She really loves that kid of hers, I guess.

"Well, good luck with training, then, Sofia," I call over my shoulder as we walk out of the barn.

"Not that you'll need it, being Shadis' new favorite!" Hanji teases. Sofia merely laughs at them and goes back to shoveling manure.

My worry from the previous night has all but dissipated, and I leave the stable feeling, if not happy, a little more cheerful. Hanji hums at my side.

"Ah, I'd give anything to be Shadis' favorite trainee," they sigh.

I stare at them in confusion. "Why on earth would you want that? That's too much expectation for me."

They grin. "Well, when I was a cadet, I thought Keith was very handsome."

I groan, but I'm fighting back a grin. "Hanji, I'd like to keep my breakfast in my stomach, please."

Chapter Text

December 845

Winters in the Underground were always the worst days. If fall was deadly chilly already, winter was lethal on a whole other level. It was joked in the Underground - morbidly, but joked nonetheless - that winter was the necessary vermin control that cut our mercenary population in half each year.

For prostitutes, there was really one word that could describe the season: hungry. Brothel owners sometimes waived the rental fees during winter because girls were struggling to even scrape together enough to eat and would leave brothels in droves, unable to pay for rent. It wasn't out of kindness. No, the owners just needed to ensure that there would be girls still above the bar to entertain guests when spring rolled around again. And a dead girl never did anyone any good.

There were winters, I remembered, before I found a good brothel to stay in, where I swore I wouldn't last. Especially the first few winters after my mother died, I'd starved in silence on the side of the road and flirted desperately with every person I'd meet just to make enough for a slice of bread. Of course, by the time I'd found a brothel things didn't improve much; men still didn't care enough to travel all the way down to the Underground in winter just to tumble a whore. Nobody could really blame them. The Underground during winter was a terrible, frozen place. The air so far underground was bitter, so much so that it hurt to breathe, and icicles as sharp as a butcher's knife hung like stalactites from sewer grates high above. There wasn't snow but any moisture in the air froze, so that the entire subterranean city glinted like the eye of a predatory animal.

Still, even in those dismal, frigid months, I had someone to keep me warm. Erwin still visited regularly, when he could, although now it had lessened to maybe only twice a week, if we were lucky. Though I'd never admit it to him, and even felt ashamed to admit it to myself, financially, I depended on him at that time. Without the few shillings I earned from his weekly visits, I would have starved to death.

Of course, I remember one night in particular.

The bar was dead, of course. Girls lounged around, eager to make a killing, but there were far less patrons than available women. The few girls who were lucky to score one of them quickly scrambled upstairs, leaving the rest of us below to grow increasingly irritated and desperate.

I sat on a barstool and watched the door. The bartender snuck me a glass of whiskey, winking, and made a crude gesture. I ignored him, of course, and drank the whiskey without a word. I wasn't usually a fan of alcohol, but the whiskey filled my stomach with a pool of heat and warmed me from the inside out. I felt a flush creep across my cheeks as I finished the glass.

I wasn't drunk by any means (it had only been one glass, after all), but the whiskey emboldened me considerably. I resolved to make a move on the next man who entered, no matter how many other girls made a beeline to do the same. I needed that money, dammit.

Feeling a touch less chilled to the bone, I rubbed my arms and continued staring at the front door. Part of me entertained the fantasy that Erwin would be the next one to walk inside, his eyes glittering and cold, his thick wool cloak sweeping behind me as we hurried up the narrow staircase to my room. I wanted him so badly. The whiskey burned in my gut, seeming to wind slowly downwards until the warmth burrowed in the deepest part of my stomach, where it smouldered unrelentingly.

For once I was feeling ... frustrated. I wanted, not just any customer, but him.

It was so unlike me that I wondered if I really was drunk. Clamping my teeth down on the soft inside of my cheek, I forced myself to remain seated at the bar instead of pacing around like a caged animal.

The hours ticked on. No customers were coming. Starving, helpless sighs of resignation began to whimper across the bar as girls gave up and retreated upstairs without a shilling. I was so cold my teeth were nearly chattering - except for that pool of heat at the bottom of my belly.

When the door to the bar did finally swing open, at a quarter to two, the tinkle of the bell scared me half out of my wits. There was the hungry whoosh of a half dozen intakes of breath as a customer ducked inside.

My heart somersaulted, and I squeezed my thighs together. They were quivering with expectation. If it was Erwin ...

He had to glance past the other girls before he found me. Part of me felt bad for the rest of them; they had been waiting for a customer for just as long as I had. But relief tastes sweet, especially on the tongue of someone who hasn't eaten a proper meal in months. It was all I could do to keep from running to him.

I stood as Erwin approached me from the doorway. It was him, after all, and I hadn't been hallucinating. The flush of blood that coloured my cheeks felt impressively warm beneath my frigid skin.

"I need a drink," he mumbled, touching the small of my back. "Before we go up. I just need a drink."

The bartender must have caught his low request, because a glass of whiskey appeared on the counter before us in a flash. He opened his lips to reveal a yellow-toothed smile as Erwin flicked him the proper shillings.

"Another hard day?" I watched him tip the amber liquid between his lips and traced my fingertip across the knuckles of his other hand.

"Of course. Winter means no expeditions, only meetings with higher-ups around the Capitol. I swear, for the amount of time I spend in this city this time of year, you'd think I'd get to see you more than usual, but ..." He bared his teeth at the sharp tang of the cheap alcohol. "I keep talking with only the people I have to and none of those that I want to."

"Don't stretch yourself too thin. I can survive down here without you for a little while."

"What about my survival? Do you think I don't need you as much as you need me?"

He didn't break eye contact with me while he downed the rest of the whiskey. The pool in my stomach fluttered, leaving me at a loss for words.

"Let's go up," he said.

I had to be drunk, or half delirious. By that point I'd reckoned with loving him. But wanting him, this badly - it didn't make sense.

The two of us didn't have to speak. I followed him, reduced to timidity by the overwhelming starvation of my own desire. Vaguely, I was aware of a hairpin lodged through my twist of curls and digging into the back of my scalp, and I felt my skin pulse around the pain. I was hyperaware of every inch of my skin, even down to my fingertips and toes.

He opened the door to my own room and let me inside. The cold was less pronounced than I had thought it to be before, the sheets on the bed white and innocent, the only light a solitary, violently flickering candle. The splintered, floor-length mirror propped against the wall, an unimaginable luxury I'd already managed to ruin.

He blew out the candle as soon as I'd closed the door behind us. At once the room plunged into darkness. I could see only the edge of his face outlined by the hot, golden glow from the gaslamp outside my window as my eyes strained to adjust. We breathed with the room for a second.

"Is it okay if I -?"

"Yes. Please."

He pulled the hairpin out and watched my hair tumble down.

"Are you going to listen to me, love?"

Goosebumps prickled across my skin, but inside of me was warm, so warm. My lips quivered; I kept my gaze cast down at the floor. "Give me your orders, Commander."

"You'll obey them, now." He seized my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my face upwards. "You want to obey me?" he whispered. I could smell the subtle smoke of whiskey on his breath, he was standing so close to me.

The feeling of his finger so close to my mouth nearly drove me insane. "Yes, I-I do," I sighed.

With his other hand, he began to - slowly - undo the front of my dress. "Well, you don't need any convincing."

"You're teasing me, Erwin."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "But I love making you all flustered like this. Don't you like it when I tease you this way?"

The cold air shocked my bare skin as my dress slipped off my shoulders and landed in a pool on the floor. I sucked in a breath, unable to respond.

"Aren't you going to answer me?"

I couldn't tell what inflamed me more, the rumble of his voice or the feeling of his light fingertips skimming across my cold skin. I was so weak with him, so unable to do anything but give in. He was right; I did like it. I liked him. I liked how he made me feel - desirable not despite who I was, but because of who I was. I never felt ashamed when I was with him, not like how I was when I was with other men. He treated me like his equal; he cared about my pleasure as much as his own. To feel dominated by him in every aspect ... it left me crying out in equal parts pleasure and pain, carving my face into his hard shoulder, dragging my nails across his broad back, feeling his chest heaving against my own until it felt like we were one person.

That was the cliche I'd heard the other girls make raunchy jokes about over lunch, or listened to customers describe with unconvincing innuendo. I'd never understood lust until I'd understood my feelings for Erwin. Because that, what we were doing then, could not compare to anything else I'd ever experienced. I didn't think he could ever hold me close enough against him. I wanted more, more, more of him every time, until the world broke and color bled through the darkness all around us.

He stopped, when we both were through, and pushed the hair off my forehead, asked if he'd hurt me. I was aching, of course, but I would never tell him that. His own hair was hanging in his eyes, hazy from exertion and release. His chest gleamed with sweat, painted golden from the light of the streetlamp, and his arms trembled as he held himself upright.

I reached up and ran my hand through his sweaty hair. In a few minutes we'd both be freezing again, but for now we panted from each other's heat.

"You'll stay?" My voice was almost hoarse.

"I couldn't leave you in this state," he growled, lowering himself to lay beside me.

The bed was really much too small for the two of us, but he held me so closely to him that it didn't matter. I watched as his chest rose and fell, rose and fell, until he drifted off to sleep. I listened to his heartbeat for a while, burrowing against him for warmth, until I, too, dropped away into slumber.

Chapter Text

Sofia

It's hard to believe it's almost January now. In a month or two, we'll be graduates of the Training Corps. The thought is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, so I don't dwell on it too much. The past three months or so have passed in an exhausting, flurried rush of intense physical training and mental toughening, thanks to Shadis' harsh, albeit effective, training practices. He didn't need Captain Levi to tell him twice to turn his troops into proper ODM experts - by now, all of us can competently use the gear, even Xander.

Now, we're sent on more individualized training exercises instead of doing them as a group. Like our current objective, for instance. Shadis sent us in groups of two into the wilderness beyond the training camp, to test our survival skills in the bitter winter weather. Each pair is allowed two rifles, two bedrolls, a twenty-foot length of rope, one small hand-axe, and a tarp. Besides these supplies, we're on our own, and he expects us to survive for the next three days. At least.

My partner - unsurprisingly - is Xander. Shadis pairs us together often. I don't mind in the slightest, since Xander is a strong and helpful ally, especially in survival situations like these. He's both mentally and physically tough, and I can always count on him to cheer me up if I start to get cranky because my socks are wet or because I fell asleep funny wedged up against a rock. Strangely, he has a way of setting me at ease.

"Right, well, that's as good as the shelter's gonna get." Xander straightens, clapping his hands against his thighs to dislodge the snow crusted in his gloves.

I step back and regard our shelter. We've tied the rope between two trees and slung the tarp over it, clearing the snow beneath the peaked roof we created. Then, we packed snow on top of the edges of the tarp, to seal the bottom from the wind and to hold the tarp firmly in place. We tried to build up two snow walls on the open ends of the tent as well, packing the snow into a hard mass, but I'm not confident they'll stay upright for very long. Whatever. We'll only have to sleep here for two nights anyway.

"It looks pretty good," I agree. "Should we get some food next?"

He nods. "Probably smart. We won't find much foraging, obviously, but we could try to hunt something. I thought I saw some pigeon nests on our way over here."

"Ah." I bite my lip. "I'll do my best. But you do know I don't have the best aim."

He flashes me a grin, raises one of his shoulders. "Well, there you are - practice."

We each grab a rifle and head away from camp. I let Xander lead the way, towards wherever he saw those pigeon nests, and keep a close eye on the white forest surrounding us. Snow still amazes me - who knew such a substance could fall from the sky?! - and even though it makes every aspect of training miserable, I'm still in awe at the beauty of it.

"All right, shhh." Xander places a gloved hand on my shoulder and points towards a tree branch a little ways above us. "There's a nest. Chances are, the birds will stay mostly nearby."

"Do we stay here, then?"

"Sure. We can wait for one or both of the pair to come back and get 'em then."

"There's no eggs in the nest, right?" For some reason, the prospect of waiting around for a mother to come back to her babies, and shooting her when she does so, unnerves me a bit.

"No. There won't be until spring. It's probably a mated pair," he explains.

"Right." The information doesn't comfort me any more.

We settle at the base of a large tree and begin our stakeout. I wonder at how efficient it is to sit and wait on the off chance that two birds will show up, though I figure it would waste precious calories to traipse around the woods for the same purpose. It's our only option for food, after all, unless we try fishing in the stream nearby. But it's probably too shallow for fish at this time of year, anyway.

After fifteen minutes, our patience pays off. We both spot the pair of pigeons at the same time, winging through the trees towards the little black nest, their ash-grey feathers flitting like ghosts through the white forest.

"You take the left one," Xander whispers to me.

I copy his movements, very slowly aiming the barrel of my rifle straight for the breast of the left bird. It's hard to track something that's moving so fast, and I hold my breath. I don't want to spook them with the slightest movement or sound.

"On three," Xander breathes. "One, two ... three."

We both pull the trigger at the same time. The report of the guns blasts across the silent forest.

Immediately, the bird he was aiming for drops like a stone, punched through the middle by a circle of blood. I am not so lucky; my target wheels away into the grey sky unharmed.

"Damn!" I exclaim, lowering my rifle.

"Ah, well. At least we got one," Xander consoles me with a pat on my shoulder. "Come on. Let's try another nest."

I follow his lead away from the nest. He stops to pick up the dead bird on the way, brushing off the snow. It looks smaller close up, and my stomach growls.

As we continue to walk away, I swear I see the mournful grey feathers of the other pigeon, waiting at the nest for its mate. When I blink, though, the phantom bird disappears.

We end up shooting three more birds, two of which I can claim as my own game. Xander does a good job of coaching me, and while I'm no crack shot yet, there's still hope for my aim. I feel slightly more assured of myself as we make our way back towards camp.

"Gross, you've got blood all over you," Xander notes placidly, jutting his chin out at my bloodstained bare hands.

"Better on my hands than on my only pair of gloves." I grip my two pigeons tighter in my fist.

"I guess that's true." He grins. "Fancy a swim?"

I stare at him, nonplussed.

"A - swim? Are you mad?"

He shrugs. "What? It'd be fun. We could keep our clothes dry, warm up after we get out."

"That's not how that -" I shake my head, almost laughing with exasperation. "Our internal temperatures would be too low. It's not like dry clothing spontaneously creates heat."

"All right, so we'll be cold for a little while afterward. I don't care if you don't."

"It's a bad idea!"

"Come on! You're from the Underground, aren't you? Don't you want to experience a little bit of the excitement of what the world above has to offer?"

"Like dying of hypothermia?! No thanks!"

He chuckles, and like always, it sounds foreign in his throat. "Live a little, Sofia. Didn't anyone ever show you what it's like aboveground?"

For a moment, I'm caught off guard. The memory of Erwin - and the stars - stirs within my consciousness, and the sharp grief of it still surprises me. I push away the recollection, hiding my pained expression from Xander.

"Sure, someone did. I hardly need to swim in freezing water to experience it."

"Come on. For me?"

I toss him a look. In spite of myself, I'm starting to consider it.

"It's not like Shadis is going to let us die. Worse comes to worse, he chews us out for being dumbasses and purposely failing our mission," he assures me.

"I don't get why you're so insistent on this," I mutter.

"It'll be just like being a kid again. Fun, exciting! You'll see."

I sigh and let him lead me to the edge of the stream. It's surrounded by trees on both sides, twisting into the woods. A little further downstream, I'm surprised to hear the rush of what sounds like a waterfall, and the stream itself is unfrozen and flowing freely. We deposit our packs and game on the banks of the burbling water. Xander starts to take off his jacket and gloves.

"It's not frozen," I note, staring at the clear, cold water.

"It's moving too quickly to freeze. Lucky for us."

Reluctantly, I follow his lead and begin to shed my outermost layers of clothing, until I'm standing in only my undershirt and shorts. I shiver as the wind cuts across my bare skin.

Xander's taken off even his undershirt, so his pale chest shines just as brightly as the snow. I notice he has scars all across his back, over and around his arms, up and down his stomach. He shifts almost imperceptibly when he sees me looking.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He grins, stepping into the frigid water, his shoulders tensing. "Whew, it's cold."

"No shit," I snap, but I tiptoe in regardless.

The cold is quite astonishing. It stabs into the pads of my toes with indescribable sharpness; it almost feels warm to my ice-shocked skin.

"Jesus," I gasp, hardly able to suck in a breath.

"Wow, isn't this really living!"

The corner of my mouth curls upwards at Xander's hearty laugh. He scoops up a handful of water and scrubs his face with it, hooting at the intense cold. He's such a child - but right now, he looks so free, so unencumbered. As if he were just a boy seeing snow and ice for the first time. I'm so cold my legs are quickly turning numb, but I force myself to go deeper into the stream to stand next to him.

"You must be crazy," I chatter.

"Let's go down to the waterfall." He grabs my arm with his wet hand. I nearly jump backwards, it's so cold, and goosebumps pop out more starkly across my skin. I don't protest.

We wade downstream, until the roar of water gets louder and I can see the sharp dropoff of the falls ahead of us. It's incredible, really, staring down at it from the top. I've never seen water tumble so fast over itself that it turns white and frothy, even though the jagged pieces of ice at the base look like they could kill someone. I imagine it must look even prettier in the spring.

Even now, the sparkling icicles shooting outwards in horizontal spikes from the stones glitter in the late afternoon sunlight. The spray from the churning water has frozen into strange shapes at the base of the little cliff, and on the banks, the twiggy skeletons of dead bushes drip with frozen droplets, like ornaments. The scene glitters with lethality, but not the kind that pushes me away. It's too beautiful for that.

"You have to look over the edge, it's incredible!" Xander shouts over the roar of the water. He leans over the waterfall and peers down the tumbling cliffside.

I nearly have a heart attack just watching him. "You are so close to the edge!" I yell. "There's no way I'm doing that!"

"I'll hold you, I promise! You have to see it!"

Reluctantly, I allow him to clamp both arms around my waist. Sucking in a deep, steeling breath, I lean over the edge of the waterfall. The water swirls past me and cascades down, disappearing beneath the ice that covers the pool below. I can hardly breathe - I'm freezing, and Xander is holding me so tightly - and the sight steals away any breath I have left. My brain tricks itself into thinking I'm falling, too, and adrenaline pounds through my veins like an exhilarating drumbeat. It's like the entire ground beneath my feet is falling, collapsing into the earth. It feels so weird. My head begins to ache.

A gust of wind whips through my hair, nearly ripping it out of its ponytail, and snatches a laugh out of my throat. I've never seen anything like this - I've never felt this cold or this high up in my life. I understand why Xander wanted to come here now. I feel as free as he looked before, untouchable, unafraid. If I can stand at the top of a waterfall, with him holding me fast, and not crash into the pool below, then the world could tumble away and I still wouldn't be moved.

The cold brings tears of pain to my eyes.

That night, I dream about Mike again, and wake up screaming.

Zeke

I'm a light sleeper by nature, so the sound of Sofia's whimpers startle me awake almost instantly. At first, I don't know what's happening, and I reach for my rifle, which I've stashed directly next to my bedroll. It doesn't take long for me to assess that there's no danger, though. The only one in the tent with me is Sofia. I watch her for a moment, unsure of what to do.

She wakes up on her own with a start, gasping for breath and blinking crazily, almost as if she has something in her eyes. She doesn't sit up right away.

"Sofia?"

At the sound of my concerned whisper, she twists sharply to face me, her eyes wide. Her expression reminds me almost painfully of a soldier I killed - indirectly, but his death still weighs on me. One of the men I saw the vision through.

I'm positive now.

"It's all right, it's just me. Bad dream?" I murmur.

She nods and covers her face with her hands. I bite back the urge to embrace her, to comfort myself with her tiny warmth in the freezing tent. She seems so vulnerable to me - so different from the sharp-edged determination she exhibits in the daytime hours. I push away the madness and content myself with just stroking her hair until her breathing evens out.

Neither of us speak after that; I watch her until she falls into safe slumber once again.

Chapter Text

Hanji

"I understand the choice you are entrusted to make right now is a daunting one."

Public addresses haven't always been ... my favorite thing. It's the aspect of the job that I think I'm the most ill-suited for. Talking to people isn't the problem. As most members of the Scout Regiment know, I can talk anyone's ear off, regardless of who they are, and about virtually any subject. But a formal address is so, well, formal. I find myself biting my tongue just as often as I'm actually speaking.

It doesn't help that the speech I'm making right now is so high stakes. I can see Sofia in the midst of the formation of trainees, hanging on to my every word. I already know the choice she's going to make - but what about the others? We need the men, I hear Levi saying. Do a good job of convincing them.

But I don't want just any men - I want dedicated men. Devoted men.

"I'm sure you all are well aware of what happened in Shiganshina, more aware than the average new recruit, probably." I fight to keep my voice loud and level. "And I'm sure you all know the sacrifices joining the Survey Corps entails. It's not an easy position, that's for sure; it's probably the most challenging out of any of the other regiments. But that's why I'm putting a lot of trust in you lot - not because you're trainees, but because you're mature recruits. Each of you understands a lot about the world. You know what it's like to value something, or you could understand fighting for an ideal, even to the death. This group, more than any other Training Corps regiment, understands that."

The hundred or so newly graduated trainees stare up at me with dark, glittering, utterly unreadable eyes. I clear my throat.

"I know you've had very little time to train, in the grand scheme of things, and I know you must be uncertain about what the future holds for you. But I have the utmost faith in your capability. I can tell you that we will continue to learn together. It's a scary frontier we've broken into, since Shiganshina; nobody knows what's going to happen next. Let me promise you this, though: if you join the Scout Regiment, you will be helping to build the new and better world that the next generation will someday inherit."

This time, I meet Sofia's eyes directly. They're shining brightly, her eyebrows tilting upwards above her nose.

"It will be dangerous. It will be difficult. You will lose things - your friends, your family, even your own lives - but this is the critical moment that will determine if humanity as we know it lives or dies. So I ask you, humbly, to consider joining the Scout Regiment. The hope of mankind - of all of us - rests with you."

I raise my fist to my chest in a salute. Nobody claps as I exit the stage, but Dok and Shadis incline their heads towards me in respect. Pyxis claps me on the shoulder, offering me a swig from his flask after the ceremony under his breath. I decline hurriedly.

Shadis takes the stage after me. He stares at the column of cadets assembled before him with a rare half-smile curving across his features.

"Before you all decide which branch of the military you would like to serve in, I'd like to announce the top ten graduates. As a reminder your rank is based not only on your written and physical tests but also my evaluation of your progress throughout these past six months. Now, if you'd settle down -!"

The wave of excited chatter that has swept through the assemblage of trainees quiets almost instantly. I lean forward, interested. I better memorize this list, I think to myself. Levi will want to know the top ten. And I wonder if Sofia made it on?

"Thank you," Shadis growls. "Now, let me get onto the list. Ten - John Escobar. Nine - Eliza Hubbard. Eight - Lailin Macintosh."

I hear a shriek of surprise from one of the cadets, which I barely keep myself from echoing. That Macintosh girl, really? I always thought she was more of a hanger-on than a success - one who'd survive, and not exactly thrive, in the training environment. But my hopes rise considerably. If her friend made it on the list, Sofia's chances are good.

"Seven - Helen Santana. Six - Thom Molina. Five - Xander Jackson. Four - Ferrence Kars."

We're getting awfully close to the top now, and in spite of my optimism I'm finding it hard to believe that I'll hear Sofia's name next.

"Three - Isla Larson. Two - Sofia Arawen."

Delighted surprise sparks through me. The girl really did it - not only did she make it through training, she made it to the top of her class! I feel like a doting parent whose child is showing them good marks on a report card. That's my girl!

I hardly even care as Shadis announces the top student - Maxwell Hughes, who saw that one coming - and search for Sofia in the crowd. I spot her almost instantly. She's covering her mouth with one hand in apparent shock, the other dangling loosely at her side. Beneath her hand, though, I can see she's grinning in seeming disbelief. Her eyes are shining, almost as if they're full of tears, and her chest swells. Her eyes flick to mine.

"Good job!" I mouth, flashing a big thumbs up. Her smile widens.

Shadis waves his arm to regain the column's attention. "Alright, alright, that's enough. Now comes the hardest part of the ceremony. You're graduated cadets now, and you've heard what each of the commanders has to say to you about what enlisting for their particular regiment entails. Top ten, you can come up to me if you'd like to enlist with the Military Police." He shifts on his feet. "Everyone else - remain where you are if you would like to join the Scouts. The rest of you are free to exit the training grounds. Transports are waiting to take you to the Garrison headquarters."

My pulse is pounding so vehemently I can feel it in my throat. As the seconds tick by, I realize few people are moving at all. Very few. Perhaps a couple dozen people trickle out of the training area. Of the hundred or so graduating cadets, close to sixty remain exactly where they're standing. Sofia, of course, doesn't move an inch, even though she technically could have. Levi's not going to be pleased, but of course - what did I expect?

"Alright, congratulations to everyone again. Nile, the ones up here are yours. Hanji, deal with your lot however you wish. I'm off to take a well-earned break," Shadis announces, before promptly exiting the stage.

Of the top ten, only four stand onstage next to Nile Dok, the commander of the Military Police. I suppress a smug grin; back in my day, every single one of the top ten would choose to join the MPs, but now I've managed to convince at least half of them to reconsider.

"Everyone! If you'd listen to me for a moment!" I call out.

Sixty heads whip up to attention at the sound of my voice. I'm disconcerted for a moment, then remember that it's my job to give orders. I have to get used to this still.

"I humbly thank you - from the bottom of my heart - for your decision here tonight. You've more than earned a rest, so please head back to your trainee cabins for now. We'll head out to our Wall Rose encampment early tomorrow morning." It's foolish to bring them all to the dormitories in the Capitol, since Levi and I both agree that simulated field experience should be the top priority. I trust Shadis' training, but after the disastrous training exercise in Wall Maria ... I just want to make sure everyone's absolutely prepared.

The cadets bob their heads almost as a singular entity and shuffle away to their cabins, just beyond the circle of torches surrounding the stage. I hop off the platform and make a break for Sofia, hoping to catch her out of earshot of the other trainees.

She spins around abruptly when I grab her upper arm, a hardened look of wariness flashing across her features for a moment, but the tension fades almost immediately as she recognizes me. "Commander Hanji!" she exclaims in delight. "You were great up there. I loved your speech - it was very moving."

Probably nothing to what Erwin could have done, I think to myself. "Thank you, Sofia. I hope it sounded like I was speaking from the heart!"

She beams.

"Congratulations, by the way," I add. "Top ten - top three, even! That's quite an accomplishment!"

"I'm very glad!" She rubs the back of her neck, sighing in contentment. "Although, after everything I put myself through, I sure deserved it. And Lailin, too - I'm so proud of her!"

"I will admit, that one took me by surprise, but it's well deserved, I'm sure."

She laughs. "I think everyone was a little shocked, what with her bad attitude and all. Xander was right next to me, he said he was flabbergasted she had made it to graduation at all! As a joke, of course," she adds quickly.

"Ah. Xander." I cock my head. "He was in the top ten, right? Not sure I know him too well ... He's one of your friends?"

"Yes, a good friend." Her smile softens.

"Which branch did he end up joining?"

"The Scouts, of course," she says. "I mean, sort of like everyone else, he joined the Training Corps with the end goal of serving in the Scout Regiment, especially after - Sh-Shiganshina."

She presses on firmly, but of course I can still hear the tremble of her voice over the last syllables.

"Good, good. We need capable soldiers like him." I sigh, glancing up at the stars floating above us, like little pinpricks of white in midnight blue velvet. "Well, I'll let you get to bed. I want you well rested for our journey tomorrow."

"Of course, sir. Sleep well yourself."

I clap her on the shoulder and watch as she jogs to catch up with her remaining cabinmates. I spot Lailin's pale orange hair ahead in the flickering torchlight.

I'd like to send a copy of Shadis' written feedback about Sofia to Levi, so I make one last detour to his cabin before turning in myself. I've taken Sasha with me for this trip, with the express purpose of being my messenger, so I send her on her way with the feedback and a report of my own observations before the moon has the chance to set. She doesn't complain, even though she's tired. She can't exactly ignore an order from her commander.

I yawn deeply as I watch her gallop away, and finally I can drift off to sleep without any further worries.

Levi

Sasha arrives at the Wall Rose HQ, between the Ermich and Trost districts, in late afternoon, the day after the graduation ceremony. I'm still a little miffed that Hanji didn't allow all of us to attend, but my only consolation is that they promised to send Sasha with a full report soon after. The girl arrives the next morning, nearly falling off of her horse in exhaustion. She limply tosses me the envelope before drooping off of her mount and being helped to bed by Connie and Jean.

The rest of the cadets gather in the kitchen to watch me read the letter. Part of me wants to yell at them to get back to work cleaning and airing out the castle, in preparation for the trainees who will be joining us here shortly, but they deserve a break, I guess. We've been scrubbing the headquarters from top to bottom all morning already, with only one short break for lunch. I really don't understand why Hanji insists on rejuvenating the former headquarters into our new base - it's ancient, dirty, and much too large - but I have to admit the grandiose structure is rather charming. If you like that sort of thing.

I slice open the envelope with one of the old kitchen knives and unfold the letter. There's two pieces of paper - Hanji's own account of the number of expected cadets, and an evaluation that appears to be written in Shadis' handwriting. Interested, I start with that document first - and am startled to see that Sofia's name is written across the top, along with the words, "RANK 2."

"Mikasa." I turn to the quiet, raven-haired girl, who's silently picking at a splinter on the back of Eren's chair. "What rank were you when you graduated from the Training Corps?"

"I was rank one. Eren was rank five."

"I see." I should have known Mikasa would graduate top in her class. But Sofia, to be second? I have to admit it doesn't make a lot of sense.

No one speaks as I read Shadis' evaluation of Sofia. It's only a sentence or two, ridiculous that he wasted a whole sheet of paper.

While her principal physical condition was dubious, her devotion to training, in addition to her choice to take on additional training on her own time, has shaped her into a fine soldier. Her strong sense of intuition allows her to make effective snap judgements, although she has exhibited a lack of respect for authority that could become problematic if left unchecked.

Overall, exactly what I was expecting him to say. Privately, I wonder how terrible the other cadets must have been for her to reach second place.

"Well? Any good news?" Floch pipes up.

I hold up my hand. "Patience. I haven't finished Hanji's report yet."

I scan through their short letter. 62 trainees chose the Survey Corps, an unprecedented bounty, including six members of the top ten. Including - I swallow my annoyance - Sofia. But I think I had resigned myself to that fact already.

The cadets wait for me to speak again with bated breath, probably concerned by my frown. I shake myself out of it.

"It's good news, really. 62 new members, Hanji says. They'll be arriving here later tonight."

"Wow - 62! That's a lot!" Armin exclaims enthusiastically.

Connie cocks his head. "I wonder what they'll be like?"

"Hopefully not too annoying," I mutter.

"How old will they be, Captain? They're adults, right?" Jean says.

I nod. "Probably much older than you."

"Still, it's good that we're getting more people!" Armin says.

"Things will feel normal again - at least a little," Eren agrees.

Mikasa merely nods.

I close my eyes, letting a small smile rise from within. Things have definitely felt strange these past couple of months - and only seeing the same nine faces every day has made forgetting about what happened in Shiganshina difficult. I hope that, with the influx of new blood, we all can have a little more optimism.

Chapter Text

Even though we have to wake up at the crack of dawn to leave for the Scouts Headquarters, I've never felt more awake. Every vein in my body sings with adrenaline, and Xander and Lailin both have to ask me to sit still multiple times before the cart even pulls away from the training gorge. I sit between them on the splintery floor of the cart, trying to keep from jiggling my knees in excitement.

Hanji predicts that it will take a little over eight hours to reach the headquarters, considering there's quite a large convoy of carts that have to stay together. We aren't taking our own horses, since we were just borrowing Training Corps ones during training anyway. Apparently we'll get our own as soon as we arrive at HQ.

We stick pretty close to Hanji's timetable and roll up to the castle at half past four in the afternoon. I've never seen such a huge building in my life, and in spite of its size, I think the elegant turrets and dark blue tiles on the roof are rather charming.

"This is the Scout Regiment HQ?" Lailin asks, craning her neck and staring up at the two towers that rise up above the gate. "You're sure they're not hiding the queen in here?"

For a second I consider the possibility - Queen Historia did use to be in the Scout Regiment, after all - but I quickly dismiss it. She probably has more important matters to attend to.

"Okay, cadets! If you would disembark from your transports and line up in a conventional column formation, please!" Hanji shouts. "The order doesn't matter. Just find a spot and stand in it, please. As quick as possible!"

Lailin, Xander, and I hop off the cart and trudge towards the front of the line of transports. Everyone falls into the proper place rather quickly; Shadis has trained us well. I notice that Xander lags towards the back of the formation, but I choose to head towards the front. Lailin follows me.

As we assemble, the gate creaks open, and eight people step out to greet us. I recognize Captain Levi, of course, but the other seven are perfect strangers to me. They're young - kids, really. One of them must be Eren Jaeger, the boy with the Titan powers that I've heard so much about.

"All right. First things first. I'd like to introduce you to our commanding officers." Hanji gestures to the line of teenagers. "As I'm sure you are all aware, up until yesterday, these were the only members of the Scout Regiment, and as they have the most on-field experience, they will be acting as your senior officers. Despite their age, you are expected the treat them as such. Do I make myself understood?"

We all shout our assent.

"Wonderful." Hanji bobs their head and smiles. "Of course, I am the commander, Hanji Zoe. Next is Squad Captain Levi Ackerman, whom I'm sure you have heard about."

As Levi inclines his head towards us, I hear awestruck whispers flit through the crowd.

"Then, the three Squad Leaders: Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlelt, and Jean Kirschstein."

A black-haired girl, a gangly boy, and a nervous, blonde boy all salute. The blonde boy can hardly wrench his eyes off the ground, and I'm seized with pity for some reason. I shake the emotion away. Who am I to pity a soldier with much more experience than I have?

"And lastly, four officers who serve in Levi's special ops squad: Connie Springer, Sasha Blaus, Floch Forester, and Eren Jaeger."

I recognize the girl as Hanji's adjutant who accompanied them to the graduation ceremony last night. I assume the boy on the end, not the bald one or the ginger one, must be Eren Jaeger, since he's the one everyone else seems to be staring at with the most interest, and he's also the one who seems to be the most uncomfortable. I can't help starting at him, either. He looks like any other kid, really; shaggy brown hair half-covers his striking green eyes, and blocky musculature juts off of his thin frame. The black-haired girl - Mikasa - stands close to him, meeting my gaze just as intensely. I can tell just by looking at her that she's sharper than a razor and more protective than a cougar.

"Now, ordinarily, there would be ten squad leaders with about twelve or so cadets in each squad," Hanji continues. "However, with so few cadets, we've adjusted the structure somewhat. There will be five squads including the three already mentioned, and an additional special ops squad that's led by Captain Levi. That means two of you will have to step up to be squad leaders. I've assigned roles based on your graduating rank. Maxwell Hughes and Ferrence Kars, you're the lucky ones - you've been promoted already. Congratulations."

Uncertain applause ripples through the column as Maxwell and Ferrence step forward. I'm a little confused, and I can tell other people are, too. Didn't I graduate ahead of Ferrence? He graduated fourth, even after Isla, who ended up going to the Military Police. And I was second... Whatever, I can't dwell on it now.

"As for the rest of the top ten graduates - you will be serving in separate squads, to distribute your talent the most evenly. I will separate you into squads now. Once your name is called, please follow your squad leader to your dormitories." Hanji clears their throat and unfurls a piece of paper. "Here are the assignments. Sofia Arawen, because of your superior rank, you will be serving in the special ops squad under Captain Levi."

Lailin gives my shoulder a slight squeeze as I start forward, somewhat surprised. I guess that's why I wasn't made a squad leader: Levi wants to keep a special eye on me by assigning me to his squad.

"Sofia. Welcome," Levi mutters. He holds out his hand for me to shake.

"Sir," I reply, clasping his hand and squeezing once.

"Well, Hanji's introduced you to the rest of the squad," he continues. "So we can head up to the dormitories and have a little tea party to get to know each other better. Since there's only five of you."

I'm pretty sure he's joking, but his tone is so serious I can't really tell. I nod my head once and move to follow him, while Hanji continues to assign squads behind us.

The other four cadets - Eren, Sasha, Connie, and Floch - fall in line beside me as we tramp under the gate and across the expansive courtyard. Stables have been erected between the outer buttresses and the castle walls to our left and right, and I can hear the whinny of horses within. I'm so busy gawking at the insane mass of brick and stone in front of me that I'm hardly paying attention as Levi explains the schedule for the rest of the day.

Every so often, I catch the ginger kid staring at me, but every time I glance his way, he turns away sharply. His shoulders hunch almost guiltily as he scratches the back of his neck.

Levi finishes his little speech and heaves open the oak front doors of the castle.

"Now that the Captain's done with all the boring formalities," Sasha chirps. "Why don't you tell us little about yourself?"

Levi flicks his eyes over to her, lips pressed together.

"About myself?" I repeat.

"Sure! We're going to be in the same squad, so we should all get to know each other! It'll help us work together better. I think," she says.

"Yeah, we need to welcome you to the group." Connie nudges me with a sharp elbow, tossing me a toothy grin.

These kids are so ... young, I think to myself. I feel like an old woman among them, but in a way very inexperienced.

"Okay, I guess," I acquiesce. I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the dusty dimness inside the castle. "What do you want to know about me?"

"Where are you from, first of all?" Eren asks.

Levi stiffens on the first step of the arcing stone staircase, but almost imperceptibly. We share a brief glance.

"The Underground." I figure it's best not to lie about something that's so easy to disprove.

The four teenagers exclaim in interest. I notice that Floch begins to pay me a little more attention.

"No way! I've only ever met one other person from there," Connie says. His eyes flick to Levi and back again, matching my pace as we ascend the spiraling steps.

"What was it like down there?" Eren asks earnestly. "The Captain doesn't talk about it much - I mean, he doesn't talk much about anything much."

I shrug, a little uncomfortable. "It's about as bad as you'd imagine. Freezing in the winter, unbearable in the summer. Sickness running rampant in any season. I'm lucky I got out."

"I thought you couldn't leave unless you had the proper papers," Sasha pipes up behind me.

We've reached the first floor by this point, and Levi gestures down the narrow, torchlit hallway. I follow his lead, a bit distracted from responding to Sasha because I'm staring at the portraiture on the walls. There's paintings of Survey Corps officers, some of the dates extending as far back as the 750s, as well as sweeping country landscapes. Some of the paint is so old it's peeled from the canvas in curls that look strangely edible, like chocolate.

"I got my aboveground citizenship by enlisting," I explain. "I became a full-fledged citizen yesterday, once I graduated from the Training Corps."

"So you've, like, never seen the sky before?" Connie sounds shocked.

I can't help but laugh. "No, I've seen it. I probably wasn't supposed to, but I used to sneak up to the surface all the time." My words sound casual enough, but of course the recollection stabs into my gut as I recall the exact circumstances of most of my escapades.

"But why choose to join the Survey Corps?" Floch wrinkles his nose. "I mean, you obviously graduated high enough to choose the Military Police. So why on earth would you purposely deliver yourself to hell? Don't you know most cadets don't survive the first six months?"

They're reaching dangerous territory now. There are things that I know I shouldn't share - not just for my sake but for Erwin's. No one can know about the relationship we had.

I decide to steal Xander's answer from the first day of training. "Well, I'd heard about what happened in Shiganshina, and I wanted to ... um ... give meaning to the lives of those who'd fallen, I guess."

A little bit of the tension that had been knotted in Levi's shoulders relaxes, and he sighs.

Sasha makes a sympathetic noise. "Yeah, we really appreciate --"

"That sounds like some of the bullshit Commander Erwin used to spout," Floch notes dispassionately. "I don't know how you would know anything about Shiganshina. You sure as hell weren't there."

I can't respond, because my mouth has run completely dry. Whether from shock, embarrassment, or grief, it's hard to pinpoint - a combination of all three, probably.

"Forester. You watch your tone," Levi snaps. His voice sounds just as hollow as I feel, and I feel myself start to shrink away from the ginger boy's accusatory glare.

"Sorry, Captain." Floch turns to me. "You just better live up to that, do you hear? Because there's a lot of lives you've got to give meaning to."

I make eye contact with Levi over the boy's shoulder. His grey eyes are stormy, unreadable, but I think I decipher pity somewhere in their depths.

"Yeah. Trust me, I think I have a pretty good idea. I lost a lot there, too."

My voice is thick, but I think I've managed to convince him to lay off without crying. At least for now.

Levi lets us into a room on the left side of the hallway, across from a painting of a field of pale yellow freesias. I continue to make small talk with the rest of the cadets for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, and definitely do feel like I know all of them a lot better afterwards. But despite the easy banter and abundance of laughs, Floch continues to regard me with almost curious suspicion.

Chapter Text

I really need to send another mission update letter to my superior officers on the southern coast of Paradis. That was the only way the Marleyan officials would let me attempt this crazy mission: if I was escorted by a navy fleet and agreed to make contact with them every couple weeks or so. Lord knows we don't need a repeat of what happened with Bertolt, Reiner, and Annie. They want to keep closer tabs on me.

Hopefully, the hawk I've trained to carry messages will be able to find me in the courtyard of the Scouts' sprawling HQ. It's quite interesting, really, to be entombed in such an impressive bastion of former Eldian glory, but boy does it make it difficult to send messages by bird. There are far too many towers for my liking.

I've been assigned to Jean Kirschstein's squad, a boy whom I'm already quite familiar with. According to Reiner, he's an insufferable, egotistical prick, although (Reiner looked annoyed to admit it) he has the magnetic charisma and sharp intuition of a skilled leader. He's definitely still a little wet around the ears, though; he leaves me and his other new squad members alone in our dormitory without searching through our bags. It would be amusing if I hadn't spent so much time concealing everything I needed to hide.

Because we don't have any express orders for the rest of the afternoon, I work on my letter to Magath and the others. The other guys tease me, ask me if I'm writing to my girlfriend or lover back home. I smile and refuse to answer.

I write in Marleyan, which is risky but at least its indecipherable to any Eldian who may intercept my falcon.

Feb. 17th

Magath:

Transferred to Scout Regiment HQ this morning. In contact with Captain Ackerman and Commander Zoe.

I don't say that I've also made contact with Sofia Arawen, the real purpose of my mission. For obvious reasons.

Hope to discover location of Leonhart in the next two months. Serum supply still high, will update if more is needed. Plan is to lace my squad's food with it, Squad Leader Kirschstein's too, and whatever other military higher-ups I can access. Just in case I ever get in a tight spot.

As of now, cover has not been blown. Still building rapport with Scout comrades. Will update if anything changes.

- Lt. Jaeger

Almost as soon as I've finished the letter and sealed it safely in a thick envelope, Jean re-emerges.

"All right, guys, the Commander wants everyone to assemble in the dining hall for evening grub in fifteen minutes," he says. "Um, make sure you're all presentable, and then we'll move out."

Still no mandatory bag search? I cock my brow. How lucky I am; it's disturbingly easy to get past these people.

"Are we sleeping in this dorm tonight?" one of my squadmates, a fellow named Griffith, asks.

"Not sure. I think Commander Hanji will update you about that at dinner." He'd told us before that there was a chance we'd be sleeping in the castle's grand ballroom for the first night. Why? Even he had been unable to give us an answer.

"Any other questions?" Jean asks. We all shake our heads. If I didn't know any better I'd think he's bored, but I've been around enough of those military officer types that I recognize his expression immediately (eyes half shut, mouth twisted, chin cocked as if considering an idea far above a common grunt's pay grade). He's preoccupied with something.

We all scuff our boots awkwardly as we fall into line, and I regard Jean out of the corner of my eye. It's very strange to be bossed around by a fifteen year old kid, I find myself thinking. Reiner is eighteen - and I still think he's too young to have any authority. Besides, he'd shit himself before giving orders to me.

When Jean determines that an adequate amount of time has lapsed, he leads us down to the dining hall. It's just past the entrance hall, its entrance just beneath the archway that the grand staircase makes up to the second floor. Inside, it's roughly what I'd expect of a castle this size. A long, scarred oak table runs the length of the room, below the arcing curves of stone that support the ceiling. Wrought-iron chandeliers dangle on thick navy chains from their anchorage points between the arches. Torches flame in sporadic braziers bolted to the wall. Once, this dining hall must have been very nice, but its dainty fixtures have long since been replaced with much more serviceable, egalitarian decor.

My eyes move to locate Sofia along the table, which is already crowded with cadets. I pretty easily locate Lailin's red hair, flickering in the torchlight like weak coals, and immediately turn away. Wouldn't want to sit next to that spitfire - she's only palatable when Sofia's around to mellow her out.

Finally, I find Sofia, standing at the head of the table with the rest of the special ops squad. My heart wrenches as I spot my brother also - so strange to see my worlds colliding in such a visceral way - but I flick my eyebrows up at Sofia once she catches my eye. The corners of her mouth twitch upwards, she beckons with her head (or at least I think she does): sit up here?

I sort of want to.

"Are there seating arrangements?" I ask Jean. "Sir?" I add as an afterthought.

"Yes, we have to sit as a squad." He doesn't sound too happy about it, either, but he points to the nearest section of empty bench. "Sit, guys. They'll bring out dinner soon."

As the rest of my squadmates scramble to take a seat on the sturdy wooden benches, I find Sofia's eyes again. Talk later? I mouth apologetically.

One of her shoulders lifts a touch as she bobs her head. No problem. Later.

Inclining my head towards her, I slide into my seat. Everyone's too preoccupied craning their necks in search of the incoming food platters to notice me and Sofia's little interaction.

Dinner is improved from the fare we received at training camp, but not by much. The cracker packets and boiled vegetables have been replaced with hardtack and thick, hot soup that almost reminds me of gravy - but knowing the meat scarcity on this island, it's probably boiled vegetable again, just in a more liquified form.

After dinner, Commander Hanji claps their hands to get our attention. I push my empty bowl away and turn my face towards them.

"I'm sure you all heard the rumours that you will not be sleeping in your dorms tonight - that is true." They smile at the few bold people (Lailin included of course) who groan or sigh in annoyance.

"You will be sleeping in the ballroom, just through those doors," they explain in a falsely excited voice, pointing at the carved pine doors at the front of the room, surprisingly small in comparison with the outer doors of the castle. "As a member of the Scouts, you should be prepared for anything - I suppose I should let you know outright that I'm hoping to get another exterior scouting mission approved in the next week or so. So please be flexible with me."

I'm struggling to see what one thing has to do with the other, although most of the cadets around me brighten visibly at the mention of an exterior scouting mission. There was no explanation offered in that speech. Hmm - I wonder if it's another way to keep close watch of the new recruits as a group. Sort of like Commander Smith did with that retreat out by Utgard Castle, when he detained all the trainees of the 104th division in order to determine which ones were Titan shifters. That technique got Annie exposed, if in a roundabout way.

My stomach flips immediately at the thought. Do they know there's a traitor? Are they trying to smoke me out?

The lack of explanation for such a bizarre order makes my teeth grind with paranoia. And that blatant attempt at distraction ... Zoe's planning something. They have to be. I'm familiar enough with command that I know there's always a reason for an order, no matter how random it may seem; I can't let anything slide past me.

The possibility sets me on edge. But I shake myself free of any tension. I can't let them rattle me - not yet.

I paste a smile on my face, glance around excitedly like the other cadets. A perfect, asinine mirror. If this jolly little sleepover in the ballroom is an attempt at rooting out the traitor, I won't give them any reason to suspect me.

~~~~~

At least we aren't required to set up our bedrolls near our squadmates, which gives me the opportunity to talk with Sofia. She's practically glowing, she's so enthused about being a Scout.

"I mean, I never thought - and we might be going on a mission in the next week? That's so soon! Do you think we're ready? I'm not sure I feel ready. I mean, I'll be with special ops - there's no way I'm as good as those guys. They've all got more titan kills than me. At least I think they do. At any rate they've been on the field much, much more than I have. Like Captain Levi for example - he's got to have at least fifty kills, he's insane."

"You're forgetting you killed three titans on your own," I note placidly. "Which is pretty good."

"Barely. I almost died! You saw."

I shrug. "Yep. You almost did. Don't do that next time."

"Hmm, good idea." She twists her lips sarcastically.

The Armin Squad is on lookout duty, giving the rest of us the chance to get some sleep before the Ferrence Squad takes over at three AM. I doze off quickly into that state of light sleep I've trained myself to exist in, skating just below the surface of consciousness, ready for someone to startle me out of slumber, afraid to lose myself completely in a dream. There's no reason for it, truly, but old habits are hard to break.

I wake up multiple times during the night. The sudden honking snore of someone lying above my head. The soft footfall of a cadet returning to their bed after finishing their stint on watch. The ominous groan of the ancient castle still settling around us. All of those sounds wrench me out of sleep without the slightest pretense, and I lay perfectly still, sweating, afraid that it's Levi coming to finish me off. Ridiculous notion, of course, but it's fascinating how cowardly one becomes in the darkness.

Towards dawn, I wake for what feels like the hundredth time to a much more disturbing sound. A faint rustle at my side, a slight whimper, makes my eyes fly open. I glance in the direction of the sound, and my heart drops. Just like that time in the tent, Sofia's face is contorted in the throes of some sort of nightmare.

Unlike the time in the tent, though, we aren't alone, so I can't reach out to comfort her. I have to watch her, a twinge frustrated at my helplessness. But it's interesting to wonder at what she's dreaming about as I watch her face. Her hands, too, one of which twitch as if to reach for something that I can't see. Her breath comes in irregular, jerking gasps as she curls into herself.

Suddenly, her eyes snap open, and she's staring right at me. I jump.

"Woah."

"Whe- wha - Xander," she breathes. "Sorry, I'm - I didn't know you were awake."

"Are you all right?" I whisper. "You looked like you were having a bad dream."

"Yeah, I was." She takes a deep breath, turning to lay on her back and staring up at the high, frescoed ceiling. Not like we can see any of the paintings in the darkness, but we both know they are up there, concealed amongst the shadowed arches.

"What about?"

She flinches at the cavalier question. "I - I don't know. I keep having it. I don't know why."

"Hmm." I frown, continue to stare at her. In the dark, all I can see is the hazy slope of her nose and the curve of her chest rising and falling. "What's it about? If you don't mind me asking."

She takes a long time to respond. Her breaths remain careful and measured, although I detect a hitch as she inhales. "I keep seeing a ... good friend of mine, who passed away. I keep seeing him ... how he was killed."

"Oh." I don't want to press her for more details, but my mouth runs dry with excited interest. "What was his name?"

"Mike. Mike Zacharias," she says, so quietly that even in the starkly silent room I have to strain to hear her.

"A Scout?" I guess, although the name is wholly unfamiliar.

"Yes. He died almost a year ago now. But I never knew how. Or anything about it, really. I just heard from ... I just heard from someone who passed it along to me."

"I'm sorry." It's all I can offer - especially as I consider the possibility that I'm guilty for the man's death. It's funny, I wouldn't have felt all too badly about it before (it's all a part of my duty), but now the thought perturbs me.

"Thank you." Her voice is quiet and soft, but she doesn't seem to be crying, just sorrowfully lost in thought.

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine that it's just the two of us lying on the cold tiled floor of the ballroom, where the nimble slippers of noble ladies and young gentlemen once flew with gayety as they danced a waltz, a mazurka, a promenade. I can almost hear the lilting melody now. I watch her chest continue to rise and fall, rise and fall as her eyes drift shut again. Her hands are clasped over her stomach. If I wasn't so consciously aware of her breath, I would think she was dead. I want to pull her close to me, to will those images out of her mind, the terrible ones I have seen.

It was strange, absurd, really, how with my careful planning and goal setting and precautions, I hadn't thought to plan for this.