If there was one thing Eren would never understand, it was how the royal family worked.
Why did they need hundreds of carriages and heralds to announce their presence? Why did they need people throwing rose petals? The people with the petals weren't even genuinely in love with the royal family – they were paid to throw them.
It was all about their reputation. Foreigners to the city left with tales of the beloved rulers of Mitras. How their people loved them. How they were swamped in the streets.
That might have been the case, but the swamping was either for money, or for a glimpse of the Princess. Both of which were why Eren was here today.
The first time he saw the Princess, he was 9. That was before he learned to fend for himself. He was still under the wing of Hannes and his gang of street urchins, and the royal parade was the perfect place for them to loosen a few purses.
Armin was stationed near the rich folks. No-one suspected him, not with the cherubic baby face. And if they did, quick-thinking Marco was with him to get him out of trouble.
Mikasa was in the merchant's viewing area. She was the best thief out of them all, and the merchants had the sharpest eyes, so Hannes always sent her to them.
Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner were in the slums. With everyone at the parade, they made the perfect team to break into the empty houses.
Eren himself had been told to mingle with the crowd. He pushed through, dipping into a lady's purse here, a man's pocket there. Anything that could be sold was valuable. Anything that put food on their table was gold.
Somehow, he found himself at the very edge of the crowd. Members of the Prince's Military Guard were lining the walkway, keeping the road clear for the royal carriages.
They had their backs to the road, arms linked to form a human barrier. Backs straight and eyes up – the Prince was known to be very strict on presentation.
For Eren, this just meant that his thieving passed below their line of vision.
A lady's silk handkerchief was dangling out of her purse. He brushed against her, tucking it into his pocket.
Over there – a man's pocket watch was loosely hanging from his coat pocket. He didn't even notice as Eren swiped it.
But one person did.
Pocketing the pocket watch, Eren looked up to the parade.
Looking back at him from a carriage window was a girl with short blonde hair. She couldn't have been more than 9 years old, and had a cherubic face similar to Armin's.
And she had seen everything.
Feeling his mouth go dry, Eren glanced around. There was a break in the crowd to the left, enough for him to squeeze through and run.
But when he glanced back up at the parade, the carriage – and the girl – were gone.
Later that night, they were counting their loot.
One silk handkerchief, Eren. One pocketwatch, gold, Eren. Bag of coin, Mikasa. Silver necklace, Armin. Bag of coin, Reiner. Wrought iron candlesticks, Annie. Pearl earrings, Mikasa. Foxfur gloves, Bertholdt. Bag of coin, Marco. Silver earrings, Marco.
It was a decent days work, and the money from selling the items would last them all for at least two se'enights. Hannes was well pleased, and ordered Marco out to buy some pork buns from the bakery.
Eren didn't mention the girl. He must have been mistaken, she hadn't seen him after all.
He would be more careful next time.
The next time was when Eren was 16.
Royal Parade for the Princess' 15th birthday.
The heralds had been crying it in the street for days. The Princess was in her last year of childhood, and eligible suitors would be presenting themselves at the castle for the next year.
Today was her day to be showcased.
Just like a prized pet, Eren thought in disgust. He held no patience for the ostentatious displays that the royal family put on.
But he would be attending the parade. He might have moved out of Hannes' little gang, just like they all did when they were able to fend for themselves, but he remembered what he had been taught.
The Royal Parade was the best place for a thief to earn a living.
It was different, this time. Mikasa, Annie and Marco were all working at the castle. Mikasa in the kitchens, always reliable for bringing home food. Annie was a maid to one of the lower class nobility, and often managed to bring them small comforts. Marco was a stable boy.
Reiner and Bertholdt were working as armorer's apprentices. Armin was a scribe's assistant. They had all stuck together even after leaving the protection of Hannes.
But Eren was still a thief.
It wasn't that he couldn't get a job – that was the easy part. There was always someone looking for odds and ends to be fixed up, or for a hired hand.
But Eren was a better thief now than Mikasa had ever been. He could take a man's purse from his breeches without them feeling a thing. He could remove a lady's jewels from her belt without suspicion.
Thievery paid better than any honest job he could have found, and it was Eren who put most of the meals on the table in their little shack.
Mikasa didn't like it, but she never stopped wearing the red scarf Eren managed to buy her with a month of dangerous theft.
Usually though, he stuck to safer pickings. It would do them no good if their primary source of income was imprisoned.
So today, he was wandering through the edge of the crowd. He might have gotten taller, but his hands were still far below the guards line of sight. Here, a bag of coin dangling from a belt. There, another handkerchief. His 5th today.
A lady's necklace lay exposed on her neck, over a silk scarf, as she bent to listen to her child. It looked to be gold. He unfastened it as she bent down and pocketed it.
Really, the ones who wore scarves made it too easy. They couldn't feel a thing through the fabric.
Glancing around for more pickings, his gaze fell upon the Royal Carriage and froze.
The girl was looking at him.
She was older now. Obviously. She was wearing a soft blue dress, trimmed in gold. A golden chain was evident on her chest.
And a half-crown – a tiara? – glimmered in her hair.
Shit. Shit.
The Princess Historiahad just caught him thieving.
Eren turned around. No gaps in the crowd. He glanced back at the carriage, where the Princess was leaning out towards him.
Was she about to call to the guards? Shit, he was so screwed. Mikasa would kill him.
But no shout came.
Eren looked up again.
She was smiling at him. Her hair was blowing into her face as the carriage rolled away, but she smiled at him.
She was beautiful.
Eren wandered around in a daze for the rest of the day. When he bought back about half his usual bounty, Armin raised an eyebrow.
"Did something happen, Eren? This isn't much, for a day at the Parade," he said.
"Sorry," Eren mumbled.
He'd been too distracted since his encounter with the Princess to concentrate properly on relieving the nobility of their luxuries.
He was quiet all through dinner, and while Reiner and Marco more than made up for his silence, Mikasa definitely wasn't fooled.
She cornered him later that night.
"What happened today, Eren?" she asked.
"Nothing."
Eren avoided her gaze studiously. Mikasa knew him better than anyone and would be able to tell if he was lying.
"Eren…"
"Look, Mikasa, its none of your business," snapped Eren.
She looked hurt, and Eren regretted his words almost immediately.
"Mikasa, I –"
"No, Eren, its okay. I just worry about you a lot."
She turned and walked back into the room she shared with Annie, leaving Eren standing there feeling like a piece of shit.
He'd make it up to her tomorrow, he thought, and headed for his room.
Armin was already in there, but Reiner, Bertholdt and Marco were nowhere to be seen. Probably downstairs playing cards.
Eren walked over to the bed and flopped down. There was really only one explanation for all this, he thought.
"Armin," he announced, "I think I'm in love."
Armin had laughed at him back then, Eren recalled. But that obsession begun two years ago showed itself again today.
Today, Princess Historia Reiss would become Princess Historia Kirschtein. She was being married to Prince Jean Kirschtein of the Southern Isles.
Eren thought he looked like a horse. Poor Historia. Her children would be mules.
The wedding was to be privately held today, in the Holy Church of St. Mitras. Attendance was by invitation only, and was limited to the nobility.
So of course, Eren was in attendance.
He had climbed in through the roof of the adjacent abbey, cranked open a window and was now lying precariously on one of the rafters high above the aisle.
He hoped no-one bothered to look up.
He knew no-one would bother to look up the moment he saw Historia.
She was glowing. There was no other way for his lovelorn brain to describe it. Her dress was pure white silk and lace, embellished with diamonds. Her veil covered her soft blond locks and flowed behind her. Her train was like a river of ice.
She glided up the isle on the arm of her brother, the adopted Crown Prince. He was a stark contrast to her, dressed all in black with his military adornments flashing on his breast.
In all honesty, Eren didn't know why he was here. It was painful, after all the dreams that he'd entertained about somehow meeting the Princess. Maybe she was tired of castle life and wanted to escape, and he would be her savior when she was cornered in the alleys of the Shiganshina district.
She would fall in love with him, leave her glorified life and come and live a simple, happy life with him somewhere far away.
It was heartbreaking, watching her given away to some horsefaced, jumped up bastard prince.
They were saying their wedding vows now. The Princess was ducking her head, smiling softly as the sandy haired idiot placed a ring on her finger.
And then they kissed.
Eren looked away. It was time to leave.
Amidst the cheering and the shower of rose petals, he slipped away unnoticed over the rafters and out the window.
Eren had been moping in his room for several days now. Despite Mikasa's best efforts, he wouldn't leave his bed. He ate only when Armin complained that the rumbling of his stomach was preventing him from sleeping. He refused to go out to steal, leaving Marco to work overtime at the castle to make up the deficit.
Not that it mattered. Marco had been making almost twice as much as Eren lately. He had also started bringing back little luxury items – a cravat here, a fine cloak there.
But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered, because his Historia was gone. Never would he see her again, not with that Kirschstein bastard.
"Eren…" That was Armin, sighing in exasperation at his childhood friend.
"Armin, I may die. My heart is broken, my dreams crushed," Eren declared. Armin just didn't understand. It had been love, true love, and it was forever out of his reach now.
"I will never love again."
Armin rolled his eyes, grimacing at Marco, who was standing in the doorway.
"Still feeling down, Eren?" asked Marco.
"Marco, have you ever been in love?" Eren replied.
Marco blushed slightly, and limped over to the bed.
"Well, I don't know if it's love, but…"
"Oh my gosh Marco! You're seeing someone! That's why you've been home late and bringing back all these luxuries. Is she pretty? Rich? Is she a Lady?" That was Armin, bubbling with excitement over his deduction.
Marco was blushing even harder now.
"I've been… seeing someone. They're really important though, so I can't say who."
At this, Eren wailed.
"See! Marco, you've found your true love. But I will never have mine," he said morosely.
"Eren, it was just a crush!" said Armin.
Eren just turned and muffled his face with the pillow.
"Lnnfgh mff affne, Affmfn."
Marco laughed. "Come on, Armin, it's dinner time. Eren, if you want food, come downstairs."
They both exited the room, leaving Eren to his lovelorn squalor.
Several days later, Eren was gushing to Armin in their room.
"She was so pretty, Armin! And she smiled at me, and thanked me for my help, and then kissed my cheek!"
Armin was alarmed. "Who, Eren? Surely you don't mean Princess Historia?"
Eren scoffed. "Historia? No, no! Weren't you listening? Her name is Petra, and she's the Prince's personal maid."
"So what happened to Historia then?"
"I love Petra now. I thought about it, long and hard, and I realised that what I felt for Historia was a mere boyish fantasy."
Armin still looked skeptical, but just nodded as Eren continued his rant.
From their positions in the doorway, Marco and Reiner laughed.
It had been a bad day for Eren. First, he left the house in a merry mood, skipping along the pavement, only to slip in some horseshit and ruin his best jacket. It was all the fault of that idiot Prince, the one who married Historia. His horse face had multiplied the amount of horseshit lying around the city.
Then, he went to the bakers to buy some of his favourite pork buns, only to find that they were sold out. Disgruntled, he returned to the house to beg off some of Marco's cooking, only to be kicked out to work.
So he was wandering around the city, filching objects from stalls, purses and bodies.
And then he got caught.
The gentleman who he had been relieving of his pocket watch reached for the item just as Eren slid his hand out of his pocket.
Needless to say, Eren had spent a day in the stocks, and was now trudging home penniless and covered in rotten fruit.
Mikasa was going to love this.
After being yelled at for 33 minutes exactly, Mikasa sent Eren up to bathe, claiming he smelt like the slums of Trost district.
When he came down for dinner, his favourite noodle dish was finished, and Mikasa was waiting for him. The expression on her face was familiar – it meant trouble, usually in the form of some extreme mother henning.
He was right.
"Eren, I think it's about time you got a proper job."
Eren gaped. "What, no! I'm doing fine as it is!" he said.
Mikasa raised an eyebrow at him.
"You were arrested today. Next time, they'll throw you in the castle dungeons," she said.
"I'll be careful, Mikasa! I – "
"No, Eren. My supervisor at the castle says he can give you a job, as long as you keep your nose clean and don't steal anything important."
Eren opened his mouth to argue back, but before he could say a word, Mikasa spoke again.
"I've spoken to the Garrison, asking them to keep a special watch for a green-eyed thief. Anywhere you go in public, they'll recognise you."
"Mikasa, why would you do that?" Eren asked, horrified. Thieving was a way to supplement their income, make a little extra on the side and let them all live comfortably.
But no more, it seemed. Mikasa's intervention had ruined any career he had as a thief.
"Fine, I'll do your stupid castle job. But there are no Garrison in the castle, so I'll just steal from there!" he said defiantly.
A smile ghosted across Mikasa's lips. "I wouldn't expect any less of you, Eren," she said.
A/N:
Hope you enjoyed that! Next chapter up soon. Check out ao3 for more regular updates probably, my user there is miss_madhatter.