But shivering, sniveling cowardice is not the way of our valiant ruler! His quill did not quiver with hesitance as he detailed his desires for the decree, but shook with determination, and it was done. Though many would perish, his unyielding faith in the valor and fortitude of our loyal people assured our most regal ruler that he chose justly and rightly when he graciously granted the people of our third wall- the refugees that boiled with the righteous anger of kings deep in their hearts- a gleaming opportunity to redeem what had been so harshly stolen from them by evil incarnate–
"Ow! Ada!" Julianne said sharply, her hand moving instinctively to her irritated scalp. She locked eyes with her servant in the vanity mirror, her expression cross.
"My apologies, Mistress." Ada adjusted the stroke of the fine-toothed ivory comb.
Julianne focused again on the heavy book in her lap for a few moments before inconspicuously raising her gaze once again. Sure enough, the old woman's eyes were fixed on the orderly lines of black ink.
"Do not read over my shoulder." The only way an experienced servant like Ada would tug on her hair was if she wasn't paying the proper attention to her task. "I cannot enjoy my book when someone else is watching that way."
"Of course."
Julianne closed the book with a sigh anyway. Ada would read over her shoulder no matter what she said, and Julianne didn't feel an inclination to argue. Though Ada had long stopped acting as her nurse, because of their history, she tended to be more bold with her mistress than the other servants.
Julianne ran her fingers slowly over the fine leather– The History of the Breach of Wall Maria.
"I want to return to the library," Julianne said. She could already feel her family's vast collection of books beckoning to her. "This volume is rather boring. And it seems to prove that I really am the only one who knows the king to be a fat and sweaty glutton."
Ada simply dipped her graying head at this statement, presumably because she had never met the king as Julianne had. She pinned up the last strand of raven black hair with a golden clip, and Julianne rose, fluffing her petticoats.
"Do not follow me. I promise I won't be late to my lessons." Sometimes it seemed the old woman forgot that a lady of fourteen no longer needs a nurse to supervise her every move.
Ada nodded and moved away hesitantly, most likely off to dust something or rearrange Julianne's bedding.
Julianne was halfway down the hall when she passed a window and caught a glimpse of a party of horses riding up to their estate, pausing to watch them. It appeared to be just another vanguard of visitors for her father, but as they rode closer, she realized that the guards had the family crest on their uniforms. And the rider in front wore a military jacket.
Felix!
Julianne gathered her skirts in her hands and held them up a few inches above her ankle– higher than she should have, she knew–as she hurried down the stairs to meet her brother. Hastily, she smoothed her skirt so as to hide her actions. Her father and mother were already there, waiting for him to enter, and would surely give her stern glances if they saw her lift her skirts so high.
Her mother held the strong arm of her father with a graceful hand as he kept his stony gaze fixed on the heavy doors, his profile outlined starkly against the window by the morning sun. She greeted her daughter calmly, not quite turning her head to face Julianne, but enough that Julianne could see her expression.
Slowly, a soft smile made the lines on her face fade away. "Felix arrives."
"Yes!" Julianne said, trying not to sound too eager, but not entirely succeeding. Her hands could not keep still until she clasped them together, and though she couldn't feel herself squirming, she could hear the fabrics of her dress rubbing against each other. Today, however, it seemed neither of her parents would scold her for it.
After all, Felix had always been her favorite of her two brothers. Now that his three years of training were finally over, she knew he would soon have to leave for duty to the Military Police, but surely her father would ensure that Felix's division is always in close proximity to their home. And before he left, Felix would certainly read with her, and show her some of the tricks he'd learned in his training.
The ornate wooden doors swung open, and Felix entered the hall first, the noise from his boots chasing itself all around the cathedral-like domed ceiling. He left a dark print of dirt on their pristine marble floor, but he oddly didn't seem to notice, simply bowing.
Julianne followed suit and curtsied. Only when Julianne raised her head did she realize that her parents stood stiff. Suddenly, her mother's gentle hand seemed to be a claw, her father's solid gaze an icy reproach.
"Felix…" It seemed he'd run out of words.
Julianne saw the disturbance then. Her brother's uniform bore not the regal horned horse of the Military Police, but the crossed white and blue wings of the Survey Corps. Her stomach began to turn uncomfortably. Julianne's hands began to tremble, but she could not restrain them this time. It would have been a more accurate symbol of those people if their wings had been torn and red.
"What is the meaning of this, Felix?" Their father demanded after a long pause, voicing Julianne's thoughts exactly.
Her brother had visited home several times during his training, and each time had reported excellent grades; none of them had ever imagined that he wouldn't join the Military Police. A tightening pressure was beginning to build behind her eyes.
Felix looked at their father's stormy face, and then at their mother's small mouth slightly agape. He glanced only briefly at Julianne before offering a weak excuse to their parents, his face carefully impassive.
"I suppose my letter was lost, otherwise I have arrived before it...I didn't achieve the necessary marks for service in the honorable Military Police." Somehow, he had the gall to meet their father's eyes, standing erect. "So I instead chose the Survey Corps."
Julianne involuntarily glanced at the staircase. How easy would it be to simply run up those steps and go back to her room as though nothing had happened? But still she stood rigid, looking sideways at her similarly frozen parents. A stretch of silence ensued, until Felix spoke again, his voice clipped and detached.
"May I go to my chamber?"
He received no answer. Her parents left the room, her father with his lips pressed tight, and her mother clinging to his arm as though she would fall should she let go.
Felix grinned at her uneasily. "Is that a yes?"
Julianne did not return a smile, but she refused to let him see her tears, forcefully blinking them out of existence. Her voice shook. "Why would you do this, Felix?"
He stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending, and then the corners of his lips dropped down, and his gaze averted. He pivoted and walked away, tracking in dirt with his boots clicking against the polished marble in aggravated disagreement.
The whoosh of a blade sounded foreign in their garden. Normally, only the sound of the nearby fountain—a cherub gracefully pouring water from a pitcher—and the various birds could be heard in the garden, and occasionally the wind or an animal rustled the leaves. Sounds of steel and clanking equipment did not belong.
The head of a tulip hit the ground with a flash of metal and an audible thud, which did not belong either. But once again, Felix didn't seem to notice. Wasn't the military supposed to sharpen the senses?
"I can barely keep track of your blade." Julianne merely wanted to break the silence. She didn't like the sound of a sword in her peaceful garden, and she was particularly fond of the tulips.
"It's easier than it looks," Felix said. He put the blade back into its sheath without ceremony and sat down next to her on the stone bench.
Julianne eyed him carefully. Her brother still looked as he did the last time they met, though perhaps a bit more tanned and muscular, but he still had the same face. It was their mother's face, soft and compliant, though with a tinge of their father's thick eyebrows and taut brow. Felix was suddenly so different, yet at once so familiar. Julianne supposed it was because the shame of his failure now weighed upon his shoulders.
Felix began unlatching the three-dimensional maneuver gear from his waist, piece by piece. Julianne privately wondered if it really had to be that complicated.
Something else bothered her, too. "You can do all that, but still didn't make the top ten."
Felix didn't look at her, robotically unfastening even more buckles. "I was waiting for you to comment on that. I could tell you were holding it back."
Julianne pursed her lips and waited.
"I expected that you, at least, would still accept me, sister." Felix dropped the gear down next to the bench, creating a clatter that even further interrupted the peace of the garden. A family of thrushes fled the nearby cranberry bushes at the racket.
"Tell me why."
Felix was quiet for a moment. "You wouldn't understand."
He'd never said anything like that to her before. Even so, he smiled at her then. "You're pouting."
Julianne stuck her lower lip back in. "I'm not."
Felix looked away. "I should change my clothes for supper."
Upon closer inspection, Julianne noticed the dirt trapped in the weave of the white pants, the pale cracks in the leather straps holding his gear in place, the small loose threads on the embroidered wings on his sleeve. Even on his previous visits, she'd never noticed how disorderly his clothes were before.
He stood and picked up his gear. It was true that his clothes were completely improper for supper, but he turned away too quickly. It took Julianne a moment to remember that he'd been dressing himself the past three years. He didn't even call a servant to carry his gear and simply picked it up himself.
"Have you really forgotten us?" Julianne asked softly.
"A little," Felix admitted, turning back and extending his hand to help her up from her bench. "But I'm remembering very quickly."
A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading! Any feedback is appreciated, so please feel free to leave a review!
**Thanks so much to Shekame for beta-reading for me! :D (This is an updated version of the first chapter)
I was inspired to write this when I wondered why there wasn't more class conflict included in the canon storyline, and when I wondered why other soldiers might join the military, if not to make the MPs or to satisfy a burning passion like Eren and his friends.
This story is rated T for dark/mature themes (nothing sexual, though) and violence, but I'm aiming for an overall positive message. At the moment, I don't expect to be writing anything more intense than the source material.
Hope you enjoy! :)
Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin (c) Hajime Isayama