Author's Note: Inspired by two different fan arts by Shynii on tumblr.

Disclaimer: I do not own SnK or AoT.


It wasn't lost on him that she'd chosen a spot for their homestead beyond Wall Maria. Of course he'd let her choose the location. He hadn't ever been any good at life outside the city, but for Mikasa, he'd try. She seemed happiest with her hands covered in dirt. Often there'd be a smudge of earth across her forehead from where she'd swiped a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. When he'd reach out to wipe it off, she would smile in the offhanded way that always made his heart skip a beat. Her rare smiles, though becoming more frequent, were something he treasured.

Mikasa's garden was a living entity on it's own, and not just in the sense that she coaxed life from the ground. The squares of soil changed, and evolved. It had doubled in size over the last year alone, and he never assumed to interfere with her work. In the beginning, he'd tried to be helpful, but he lacked the patience to till, and turn the same areas of land again, and again. Mikasa had a single-minded nature about her that afforded a concentration he could never achieve. So he left her to it. She didn't seem to mind.

His skills were more suited to handling their business inside the walls, and managing their home. The structure hadn't been in good condition when the two of them had happened upon it, but he was strong, and found architectural repair to be far less tedious than gardening. He was thankful their population of livestock was kept to a minimum. Though, Mikasa claimed animal husbandry wasn't a science she was proficient in, her way with the beasts outshined his by far.

The previous winter their mare foaled, and he hadn't known what to do. Mikasa sent him from the barn in his state of unrest, but he'd watched from the shadows as she gently wrapped the mare's tail before returning to the house. Less than an hour later she returned to him, and slid into their bed silently. He'd pulled her against him, and told her she was amazing. Mikasa kissed him softly, and didn't say a word.

The three gravestones didn't actually have bodies beneath them. Marco had been burned in the streets of Trost, Erin's body had been confiscated by the government, and Armin hadn't ever been found. The memorial served as a reminder of what they'd lost, and their homestead, what they'd won in exchange. He didn't visit as much as she did. He always felt that was because she needed it more. They never spoke of the stones or of the dead, but the fresh flowers that were left out told him enough.

He never tried to replace Eren. However the scope of what Jaeger meant to Mikasa, he didn't need to know. A brother or perhaps a lover, it mattered little to him. Nothing existed in their past but death; the future was everything. Empty graves, and hazy memories couldn't be allowed to rule their lives. That's what he told himself when he ran his hand over the swell of her stomach as she slept. Sometimes she woke at his touch, and sometimes she would smile.