March 30th, 853
Lying in bed that night Eren found himself restless. He had tossed from one side to the other and curled into a small ball. He had stretched out long on his back. He was currently laying on his stomach, face smashed into the sorry excuse for a pillow. He had tried everything he could think of, but the sleep never came. In his heart, he knew it was because no words had formed yet and his mind couldn't let go of the fear that he would never see them. Maybe titan shifters didn't have soulmates, or maybe his had been killed during the attacks. It wasn't uncommon for someone his age to find that the words never came – too many had been lost after the fall of the wall.
Deciding staying in bed would get him nowhere, he sat up and quietly padded down the empty stone hall. He passed the stairs that lead down to the basement, his old quarters. He wasn't sure what had happened for Levi to trust him, but one day he had simply come down, yelled at him to follow, lead him to his current room instead, and left without any sort of explanation. He was glad to be out of the cold and the dark, but even after three years the fear still lived in him that he could be dangerous.
He had reached the kitchens and quickly headed to find the one thing he knew would calm him – tea with honey. Not that strong black kind that the Captain was so found of, but the light herbal one Hanji had given him to ease his night terrors. He opened the cabinet and reached his left arm up, feeling along the shelf until his fingers closed around the small jar. He started to bring it back down, but found himself frozen in shock instead. If he hadn't known better hadn't seen it happen to others, he would have thought the veins in his left forearm had burst and bled out internally. Dark inky stains began forming on his skin, swirling into existence. It felt like hours before the words began to solidify and darken, but it had likely been just seconds. Finally, two small, delicately written words formed before him.
How disgusting
Oh. Oh wow. Oh shit. He had known about seeing the words, but no one had told him about feeling their intent. As soon as he read them, he was overcome with a sense of repulsion and agitation. As the foreign emotions finally left him and the words began to fade, he found himself staring at his arm, still clutching the small jar of tea above him. Well at least he got his first answer – he did have a soulmate. They were alive, older than him, awake at 3 am, at least within the same region and really grossed out. It was a start.
As quickly as his first question was answered, new ones shot to the front of his mind.
'Where are you?'
'Why are you awake?'
'What was so disgusting?'
And then more to himself than to this person that suddenly filled his thoughts, 'why on my arm of all places!?' Mikasa's words had formed on the nape of her neck, incredibly difficult to see on your own but Armin had quickly pointed them out. Jean had them on his left inner thigh. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that everyone he knew had words in discrete places, backs and hips and legs – places meant only for their eyes. It seemed like fate was playing another trick, this time Eren was the unlucky recipient. His forearm, between the elbow and the wrist. That was where his words would show up. It was as if even his body knew he didn't pick up on subtext, so the words had appeared in the most direct place possible, somewhere even he couldn't miss them. Unfortunately, this also meant that others wouldn't be able to either.
He hastily made his tea, finishing the last of his honey in an attempt to get a roughly 50/50 ratio (he liked sweets, so what) and then rushed back to his room to compose himself. He decided to focus on each fact that he had learned.
Anyone could find something disgusting, so that wasn't as useful as he had hoped.
They were in the same region. A few years ago it would have helped, but as the titans were pushed further back by the scouts, more citizens returned to their homes. The words had been a dark black though, and many specialists insisted that the closer they were to you physically, the darker the words appeared. It had been true when another scout first noticed his – they were a light faded grey. It only took two months for them to slowly darken until one day a young girl appeared on horseback and insisted that she was not leaving until she found him. That day, the thoughts were jet black. If that were to be taken seriously, then his soulmate was likely in the scouts – there were no close by settlements to consider.
They had to already be 18, so there was no point considering the younger scouts. That left his comrades from the 104th and any other scouts older than that. This was actually a pretty useful fact – there weren't that many of them left from that age, hazards of the job and all. That should narrow it down to 100 or so.
They were awake at this ungodly hour. Well, he could walk the grounds, look into all of the rooms and check who was out on guard, but that felt like a huge invasion of privacy. No, he would let that one go and work with the others. It would be enough.
He finally drank the last of his tea, and slipped into unconsciousness. It was the best sleep he'd had in years
