Author's Note: Hey guys! So, I recently posted another story called "Only Human" and when I first started it, there were two different directions that I was thinking about taking the main character, Miria. Initially, I was only going to do one, but the more I started working on one over the other, the more I started to like the story line of the other (you can't win, right?). So, I decided to post both and let you guys decide. Do you prefer one over the other? Would you like to see both continue on? Are they different enough for it to be worth it? Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Year 850:

"Nice work today, Eren!" Hange exclaimed, patting the tired recruit's back. "I feel we've gotten one step closer to the truth!"

"I'm glad you think so…." Eren replied, resting against a tree truck, and eventually sliding down into a sitting position when his legs threatened to give out below him. "I feel just as confused as before." He looked past Hange to the roof of the Survey Corps headquarters, drowning out her scientific ramblings. Captain Levi…. The lone captain sat, staring up at the stars. Miria walked up behind him, kissing the top of his head and sitting with her chest pressed up against his back. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, digging her fingernails into his body until they closed into a fist, holding onto his shirt. She laid her head just above his shoulder blades. Levi craned his neck back until his head rested on the top of hers. He stroked her arm, and they just sat.

"Eren! Are you listening?!" Hange followed his gaze to the roof. "Hm?"

"Are they…." Eren trailed off, not knowing how to finish his sentence. Hange sat next to Eren, pulling up her goggles to her forehead.

"Levi and Miria have been friends for a long time. They've gone through a lot together. I think when one is suffering, the other just instinctively knows and offers comfort." she explained in a rare moment of seriousness.

"I thought Captain Levi—"

"He's not as invincible as you think." Hange replied, already knowing his question.

Year 842:

Miria scowled at the reflection of her naked body in the mirror. Seeing it disgusted her. Miria, if you don't eat properly you won't be fit for the title of a noble lady. Eat just enough to fill out your hips, not enough to fill out your stomach. Her father's words mercilessly echoed in her mind. A soft knock interrupted her thoughts and she dug her perfectly manicured fingernails into her palms until they threatened to break the skin. Her father stepped into the room. She didn't have to meet his gaze. She could feel his creepy smile from the moment he entered, and the dull thud of every step he took to close the distance between them sank her heart lower and lower. She could feel her stomach churn in discomfort as he ran his fingers up her arm. It took everything in her to keep her skin from visibly crawling.

"You must be cold." he remarked, running his hand over the goosebumps across her chest.

"No." Miria replied plainly. She was disgusted. She hated his inspections and she wanted to tell him that his very presence gave her chills. She would feel less shame marching naked down the streets of the capital. He circled her slowly, letting his eyes take in every inch of her body like a hungry predator. No…he was a predator, and Miria refused to be his prey. He finally stopped behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and staring at her reflection. She looked back at him through the mirror.

"You're turning into a real woman. Your mother would be proud." Fuck you. My mother would have slit your throat in your sleep, you pig. "You look just like her. She was short and petite, too, and just like you, blessed with curves. Large breasts, large hips fit for birthing, and a large…." he trailed off, running his fingers down Miria's right side, and resting his hand on her buttocks. Tears stung her eyes.

"I have her eyes…." Miria barely whispered, no longer able to bear the sight of her reflection. She averted her gaze to the ground.

"Hm? Well, yes. Her hair and face, too." her father responded halfheartedly. "I see those combat lessons with Nile are paying off. Your stomach was beginning to look less flat, and I could hardly see your ribs. I'm glad you're tightening up. Just be careful not to put on too much muscle. Get dressed. Our guests should be here soon." He walked out and Miria waited for his footsteps to fade off into the distance before she allowed herself to fall apart. Tears flowed freely from her eyes now, and she dropped to her knees, holding herself and hunched over into a fetal position. She choked, hiccuped, and gagged, but when she emerged from her room an hour later to greet the guests, she was a perfectly behaved, perfectly dressed noble woman. She smiled and held her father's arm, pretending that her life was the picturesque fairy tale that he had always tried so hard to portray. She laughed at the horrendous jokes the royal council members made. She expressed her unwavering, though completely feigned, support for the royal family. She made sure to put in her time with all of her father's important business and political contacts. When the act became unbearable, she stepped into the study to temporarily relieve herself of duty.

"General Zackly…?" Miria asked the dark silhouette in the moonlit room. She shut the door behind her and walked closer to him. Darius turned to face her and Miria smiled. His light eyes caught the gleam of the moonlight, even through his round, thick glasses. The wrinkles around them deepened as he grinned at her. "I see you also needed a break from the verbal masturbation of the nobles."

"Young lady! Is that any way for you to speak of our government?!" Darius exclaimed in anger. Miria met his glare, shocked by the sudden outburst. "You say noble like those inbred fuckers know the meaning of the word." A smile appeared across both their faces, and eventually devolved into laughter. Miria ran into Darius' arms, hugging him tightly. "I've missed you, dear."

"I missed you, too." She rested her head on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe her.

"Let me look at you." Darius placed his hands on Miria's shoulders and pulled her away, staring down at her face. "My…you look just like your mother." He gently placed his large hand under her chin, lifting up her face. "You have her eyes." She smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes. You even have the same ferocity in your eyes that your mother did. I remember when I first met her. This tiny girl, no more than a hundred and fifty centimeters tall, just like you, was rampaging through the royal halls. I thought to myself then: 'I better not get on her bad side.' She was smart, cunning, and beautiful. I know she would have been proud that her daughter lived up to her legacy." Miria fought back tears and held Darius' hand in both of hers, resting her face in his palm.

"I think she would have been happy to know her best friend was looking after me and teaching me to become those things."

"Well, I better get back before one of the noblemen realizes there's no one kissing their ass." Darius joked, running a hand through his grey locks and scratching his scruffy beard. Miria chuckled and nodded, batting her long dark lashes to avoid ruining her makeup with tears. "It was good to see you, Miria." She watched him exit the room and walked over to a portrait of her mother. The painting was so realistic, like the artist had captured that moment in time. She traced her fingers across the outline of her mother's face. They had the same vibrant brown eyes, glowing olive skin, narrow nose, full pink lips, and long, silky, curly, dark brown hair. Miria had even styled her hair the same as her mothers. Side swept bangs that ended at her eyebrows, and small sections of hair pulled back from her temples, pinned together at the back of her head, and flowing down to her lower back with the rest of her loose curls.

"I wish I was as strong as you, mom." Miria whispered. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "But I'll find a way to be happy. I don't want you to worry about that." Miria turned and walked out of the study, re-engaging with the party that had barely noticed her absence.

"Miria, come!" She flinched at the sound of her father's voice, but dutifully and obediently walked over with a smile, like a dog being called by her master. "I want to introduce you to a very good friend of mine, Councilman Nicholas Lovof, and his associate, Petrus Heiden." Miria observed the older man and his younger accomplice. She ignored their lust-filled looks and did what she had always done.

"It's such an honor to meet you, councilman. My father has told me so much about your efforts to reign in frivolous military spending. I wish you all the luck in the world." Miria looked at her father, who seemed content with her display.

"Well, I do what I can." Nicholas said, taking Miria's hand and kissing the top. "After all, someone has to make sure you go wanting for nothing." Wanting for nothing…. It was so strange to hear. Miria had grown up in mansions, ate the finest food, received the finest education, dressed in the finest clothes, and lived a life of lavished wealth. Her father had started a philanthropic effort to provide medical care for the people of the Underground, and as a result, Miria had constant access to the finest doctors. She began her medical training on her thirteenth birthday with a prominent doctor who had cured a devastating plague that threatened to wipe out large swaths of humanity. In the short span of two years, Dr. Yeager had reported back to her father, stating that she had a propensity for medicine that should be nurtured. It was the most excited she had been about anything in a long time. But her father quickly brought the reality of her existence crashing down on her dream, as he usually did. Fine, nurture as you must, Dr. Yeager. However, let us not forget Miria's true purpose. Medicine is a good skill, but she is a noble woman. I will not allow studies of medicine to interfere with her preparations into womanhood. Finding a suitable man to care for her and bringing children into this world to inherit my work is her place, not among doctors and disease-ridden peasants. She cherished her lessons with Dr. Yeager. However, now every passing lesson and every passing week reminded her that she was marching to her gallows. They were just disguised as a marriage bed. Wanting for nothing. Yes, it was strange. Miria longed for the one thing she didn't have: freedom.

"Lady Miria?" Miria's eyes snapped up as she was pulled out of her thoughts by the soft voice.

"I'm sorry, I—yes, what is it?" she asked the young man. "Petrus, was it?"

"Yes." He flashed a smile, clearly happy that she had remembered his name, no matter how brief the period between their introductions. "I've heard so much about you, it's such a pleasure to meet you. You really are as beautiful as they say."

"Thank you…." Miria mumbled, looking over to where her father and Nicholas had wandered off, busy in their discussion of finances.

"It must be nice being able to attend so many parties. Your father really knows how to have a good time." Miria turned her attention back to Petrus for a brief second. He stared at her, eagerly awaiting her response. He clearly liked her, and as cruel as it sounded, she had no interest in wasting her time with this unimportant cog. If she was not required to speak to her father's unbearable guests, she was not going to, and Petrus certainly did not make the list in terms of wealth or power. He was Nicholas' plus one, and she had no obligation to keep him entertained.

"Yes, it's fine." Miria replied with a fleeting smile. "If you'll excus—"

"I've heard from Commander Nile that you enjoy stories of the Underground." Petrus cut in, desperate to keep the conversation going. Miria paused, curiosity peaked. "Especially about Levi." A jolt of electricity flowed through her body and Miria felt the hair on the back of her neck stand.

"Levi the Invincible?" she asked with a smile.

"The very same." Petrus replied. He had to have been feeling good about himself at that moment. "As a consultant to the royal council, it's my job to stay up to date on all of these kinds of things."

"So, you could tell me some stories as well?" Miria grabbed Petrus' hand and held it close to her chest. His knuckles brushed against the silk of her strapless, blue dress and the tops of her breasts.

"Of course." He took in a sharp breath, probably trying to determine which was softer: her skin or the silk.

"Follow me." Miria led him to her study. It was smaller than her father's but so out of the way that she could almost guarantee no one would find them. She lit a lantern, placing it on the carved table next to a luxurious couch. She took a seat and patted the cushion next to her. "Tell me everything."