AN: my first rivetra story! I feel a little late to the party for still shipping Rivetra even after all this time tbh. This was originally meant to be a oneshot, but it kinda spiralled out of control into a story whoops. enjoy!
She can feel it following her.
It creeps along the walls, the floor, the ceiling, always one metre behind her. Exactly one metre; she's measured. She can feel it reaching out for her with one disgusting arm, smoke and blood and fire curling in tendrils, ready to caress and claw at her back-
-and it drops back into the darkness in one smooth, fluid motion, exactly one metre away.
It's there when she writes her letters by candlelight, it's there when she gets her maid to help her dress, it's there when she steps out into the sunlight each morning to begin her day. It clings to her like a newborn babe to a mother, following her every move and mimicking it in a cruel imitation. It has her hair, her eyes, her skin and clothes and graceful movements, but everything is wrong. Her hair is a few shades darker, her eyes shadowed and solemn, her skin scarred and marked with hushed stories, her clothes torn and dirtied with muck. Her movements...are the same. Quick and agile and lithe, darting steps across cobblestones slippery with blood, reaching for hidden blades beneath her sleeve.
It doesn't speak, but it's mere presence causes her heart to twist and recoil in her chest, her body weighing heavy with guilt, her breathing quick and irregular, and Petra thinks thank god that words aren't needed.
He wishes he could tell it to fuck off.
If he ever had a child, he would imagine it would be like that...thing that follows him around everywhere. If he could stab his blades into it, he would, a million times over, just to get it to leave him alone.
It stalks him in the night, the day, when he eats, sleeps, fights, even when his eyes are closed because goddamnit he can feel it watching him.
He thinks of the fucker like a mirror. If his mirror could show the emotional turmoil his actions had on him and imprint them physically, it would look like the shadow. Every cut, bruise and wound he's ever had was suddenly there again, all the blood he's washed clean from his clothes staining the spotless cotton, all the things he's stolen are on his person again. He's already come to terms with his actions, but he wasn't ready for them to manifest into one, living demon that stands one metre away.
It's terrifying, he supposed, but he found it more annoying than anything. It doesn't harm him, and if it isn't there to harm him then what was the point?
He watches it from the corner of his eye as he wipes the blood off his knives, and it stares back, completely silent. His stomach contracts and compresses uncomfortably, and he wonders if there is something wrong with him for being so unaffected by something so unnatural. Then he pushes it away; Levi is a killer, and everything unnatural should be natural to him by now.
She's a soldier. She doesn't complain, especially not at Erwin Smith, Commander of the Legion, but she swears that he makes everything more difficult on purpose.
When he summons her, his room is in a dingy, rundown inn on the outskirts of Rose. No respectable woman would ever be seen there, so when Petra receives the crushed letter concealed as padding in a girl's coiffure, informing her of the location, she thinks, with a sigh, fine, I won't be a respectable woman anymore. She fetches her lowest-cut gown and laces her corset up so tightly that breathing seems almost impossible; her breasts swell over the neckline and she's almost alarmed at the scandalous amount of cleavage. Her face is erased by pale powder and drawn back out again with more defined features; larger eyes, pink cheeks, bright red lips. She tugs the pins out of her tight bun and twists strands around her fingers, arranging it around her face in copper curls. Slipping on her riding boots, she removed her wedding ring and dropped it in the drawer beside her bed.
All the while, it watched her.
She climbed out the bedroom window and scaled the side of the manor, hurrying to the stables and saddling her horse. Breaking it into a trot, Petra glanced back at the manor, and she thinks that this is the first time leaving where she doesn't reek of chloroform.
Kicking her horse into action, she surged forward past the manor gates and into the night. It was time to ride.
If there was one thing Levi's learnt about Erwin Smith, it's that he's got some fucking nerve.
He scowled at the letter, delivered to him from the cuffs of a boy whose face he has already forgotten.
Did Erwin really think he would work another assignment for the Legion after all the shit he put him through?
He threw down a few silver coins on the table for his meal, leaving most of it uneaten, and shrugged on his tattered coat. The barmaid glanced at him, nodding at his full glass of whiskey. "Leaving so soon? We have some great-"
The pub door slammed behind him. It was a filthy place anyway; he wouldn't have stayed even if Erwin didn't summon him.
He whistled for his horse, and his partner gave him a reproachful look. Levi glared at it. "What would you know?" He snapped, flicking his lighter and thrusting it in the demon's face. Without flinching, it melted back into the shadows, but Levi knew it was still there.
Mounting his horse, he kicked it into action, swerving past the late-night beggars and civilians of Maria. Residents out this late in Maria was never a good sign. As if to prove his point, a pair of teenage boys, armed with knives and cloth over their mouths, brandished their weapons at Levi and his horse. Their movements were shaky, he noted. He glared at them.
Whimpering, they dropped their knives and scattered.
Levi snorted. Bunch of brats.
As his horse neared the outskirts of Maria, he jerked the reins and veered it towards the city of Rose. Erwin had interesting lodging preferences; the inn he'd chosen this time was right outside one of Rose's biggest brothels. On his first assignment, Erwin had paid for a room behind Sina's public bathhouse. The thought had disgusted Levi, and he remembered Isabel telling him that he would forget about germs as soon as he saw the Sina girls, Furlan suppressing quiet snickers when Levi had yanked on one of Isabel's pigtails in retaliation.
Of course, that was when they were still alive.
Things were different now. He worked alone. There was one more widow in the world. His two closest companions were replaced by a dead eyed ghoul.
Things change, and he wasn't about to cry over it. He had a job to do.
Jumping off her horse, she reined her in and led her through to a stable, flicking a silver coin at the drowsy stable hand and handing him the reins. "I'll be back in a few hours." She told him, hiking her skirts up from the mud. He nodded dumbly, and Petra continued on foot.
She pushed open the heavy inn door, her lips curling in a seductive smile and picked her way across the floor. Men almost as old as her father ogled her from where they sat, leaning forward so far a few topple off their chairs in a drunken heap. The girls opposite them glare at her, furious that she might be stealing their earnings for the night. Ignoring their looks, she strode up to the bartender, leaning forward and dropping her voice. "I hope it's not too much trouble, if you could tell me the room that Mr Elliot Stratmann is staying in?" She looked up at him through her lashes, tracing patterns on the tabletop with an elegant finger. The greasy bartender grinned down at her and she resisted the urge to punch him in the face because god she's so used to that predatory stare-
"Alexander Duncan, eh? Big guy. He'd crush you. Why not spend your time with me?"
It took everything in her not to gag, and with a forced laugh, she slid her hands up his chest, trying not to cringe. "Alexander has paid for my time," she whispered in his ear. "Tell me his room and I'll be sure to repay the favour later. For free."
"Room 13." he said immediately. Petra drew back quickly and threw him a sweet smile over her shoulder before leaving, sidestepping a puddle of vomit with a grimace. Hurrying through the damp hallway, she rapped on Room 13 four times. Erwin opened the door, staring down at her. "Lady Ral."
"Commander Erwin." She bowed her head politely, and Erwin stepped aside to let her in. "I hope there was a reason for such lengths to be taken to keep this assignment a secret, sir," Petra said, draping her cloak on the back of a chair and sitting down. "I don't really enjoy having a neckline lower than the carpet on this floor."
Erwin smiled a little at her teasing, taking a seat in behind a makeshift desk. "The chances of my letter being intercepted were higher than usual," he told her, and she appreciated the way his eyes stay trained on hers. "The Military Police are onto us. It is an inconvenience, but one the Legion can ultimately overcome." His voice is so sure, confident, that Petra almost feels the need to pledge herself to him and the Legion all over again. "But, Lady Ral, the MP isn't the only reason I have kept this assignment so secretive." He slid a folder full of documents across the desk. Catching sight of the name, Petra gasped. "You want me to kill Princess Historia?"
"Of course not." Erwin said, quelling her nerves. "We have received word of someone close to the royal family and the crown plotting to kill her before her coronation. As you are aware, Princess Historia is under protection of the Legion, though she herself does not know. So, Lady Ral, your assignment is to smoke out her assassin- and kill them."
Petra stared at him. She had killed before- hell, she wasn't one of the most respected soldiers for nothing- but she knew who she was killing. She knew how to approach them, their likes and dislikes, their reflexes and skills, their family and close friends. Her training didn't cover the first thing about finding her victim.
She could feel Erwin's eyes on her, assessing her face. Damn damn damn. He probably thought she was incompetent, sitting this long, dumbstruck, without a reply-
He raised a hand. "Lady Ral, I understand that the training does not cover these grounds. That is why you will be working with a partner on this." Erwin pulled a small pocket watch out, glancing towards the door. "He should be here, right around-"
There was a sharp bang on the door. "Oi, Erwin! Open up. I haven't been riding for four hours just to have you make me wait while you sit on your ass."
"Now." Erwin snapped the casing on his watch closed, standing up to let his guest in. Petra swore there was the faintest smile on his face, as she sat, stunned.
She'd never worked specifically with a partner, especially one she had never met. She was certain she would remember that rude tone and crude words- she was still reeling at how he addressed the Commander!
"Really, Erwin? A brothel?" The newcomer said flatly. Petra twisted around in her seat to get a good look at him. "They're damn clingy. I was about to-"
His words fell short upon seeing Petra. He scanned her attire and face, and he raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, whore, how much is he paying you? Surely you can't have a high price to end up with him."
Petra spluttered. She could feel herself going red, flushing from the roots of her hair to her feet. "I-I-"
"Levi," Erwin said, in possibly the calmest tone possible. "She is your partner." He stepped back. "Petra Ral, Levi Ackerman. Levi Ackerman, Petra Ral."
Her partner. Her partner was a crass, bad-mannered, surprisingly short man. Judging from Levi's expression, he was having similar thoughts. "You never said I had a partner, Eyebrows." Levi rounded on him. "Just tell me who to kill, and I'll do it. I don't need a partner."
"Unfortunately, Levi," Erwin moved past him, back to behind his desk. "Without Lady Ral, you have no chance of gaining access to your victim. I don't suppose you would be thrilled to dress up as a serving boy and infiltrate the palace kitchens?"
"What the fuck are you on about, Erwin?"
Petra flinched at his language; she had heard curses before, but where was his respect? Erwin didn't even look phased; so this was normal, Petra thought.
Levi stepped into the room. Erwin motioned for him to sit, and Levi gave him a flat look. "It's filthy."
His face betraying nothing, Erwin repeated what he had told Petra. "Both of you are best suited for this assignment," Erwin said. "Lady Ral can gain us access to Historia and those close to her; Levi, with your knowledge of criminals, can easily rule out who and who can't be the assassin. You both are adapt killers. With the combined experience, I expect this to be completed quickly and successfully."
She had to applaud him; his words were strong and convincing and his tone left no room for argument. Even Levi had nothing to say against that.
"Levi, you will act as a new worker under Lady Ral's command. You will be her personal guard; this allows you the excuse to be by her side at all times. Tonight, you will both ride back to Lady Ral's home in Sina. Lady Ral, tomorrow morning, you will be escorted to the palace as one of Historia's gentlewomen to help prepare her for her coronation. After that, you will both take it from there."
Erwin leaned back. "Do either of you have any objections?"
There were none from Petra. She heard Levi shift behind her, but he said nothing. Erwin nodded.
"Good. You have both been dismissed."
Petra stood up and gave Erwin a small smile, brushing off her gown and headed for the door, Levi behind her. As her hand touched the handle, Erwin cleared his throat.
"I apologise for the loss of your husband, Petra. Lord Gavin was a noble man."
Without looking at him, Petra nodded. She failed to notice the way Levi stiffened beside her, and the look Erwin gave him before she shut the door.
Glossary:
Coiffure: hairstyle
AN: I edited and proofread this at one in the morning so it might seem a bit muddled. I'm not sure when I'll next update, but I'm off school for the next few weeks so I should be fairly consistent (hopefully) but I don't want to jinx it because gOd i'm really awful at continuing stories.