Hi, lovelies.

For those of you like me who appreciate a visual description of an OC early on, I included a little character profile of Joli Lieber (which may or may not include future chapter spoilers) at the end of this chapter!

This chapter in the manga is one of my favorites, so I couldn't resist not including it in This Peace with a little non-canon plot incorporated in as well. I also think this chapter (and the ones around it) reveal a lot about Levi's character; that being said, this chapter of This Peace just represents my own interpretation of the notoriously heartbreaking scene between Levi and Petra's father. *sniffs*

As always, thanks for reviewing, favoriting, following, and just taking the time to read this scrappy little story. Please consider dropping a review! I love hearing from you all.

Thanks :)

Disclaimer: I do not own SnK. Duh.

Year 850, Karanes

Captain Levi

The return home feels like plunging a knife into new wounds to seal them. Desperate, but inevitable.

"Just look at them, look at their faces—"

"Our tax money went to this—?!"

"—free food to the titans, didn't I tell you—"

"—cannot allow these people to disgrace the sanctity of our walls any longer—"

"My son...my poor son..."

"Excuse me, Captain Levi!"

His head turns, slowly, at the call of his name.

"Thank you," the man says firmly, smiling as if determined not to take the cries and jeers of the crowd personally. The edges of his hairline dissolve deep into his forehead, but he keeps the firm posture and stride of a much younger man. "I'm Petra Ral's father," he introduces. "I thought I'd stop and speak with you for a moment before I find my daughter..."

Levi guides his horse around a broken watermelon, tossed onto the street by angry citizens. Flies and rot congregate, red flesh splattered across pale pavement.

"My daughter," the man continues, struggling slightly to match Levi's mechanical pace. Petra's father chuckles nervously, turning his entire body to search Levi's unmoving eyes for any answer. Not finding one, Peter Ral collects himself and rifles into his coat, carefully pulling out a folded paper, hand shaking ever so slightly.

"She...she sent me this letter, you see. She wrote that she received the high honor of serving in your squad, and that she would devote herself to you..."

Levi feels the medic's wrapping loosen in his boot as he walks. His foot is killing him.

"...I-I suppose she's too starry-eyed to really consider what her father feels." Petra's father chuckles again, the anxiety surfacing in a stutter despite his efforts to hide it. He looks again at the Captain for a response, but receives nothing. "Um, well...anyway, as her father..."

The rest of the words muffle as Levi focuses on Erwin's back a few yards in front of him. The Commander walks so tall—dauntless despite the newspaper reporters and spitting critics and mourning citizens shouting abuses in his direction from all sides.

For a moment, Levi is thankful for his height. There is no burden to stand tall when one is little more than 5 feet tall.

He briefly registers the word "marriage" come from the man next to him.

Petra's father's voice quakes openly now, valiant attempt of a smile finally starting to fail. "...she's still young and has her whole life in front of her, so...I was hoping, if you could tell me where she is..."

"Mr. Ral," Levi says.

The man looks up pleadingly.

"Your daughter, Petra Ral..."

Levi turns to the man with morose eyes, finally affirming Peter Ral's fears that had compounded from the moment Petra was a child: from the moment his wife returned home from her first mission outside the walls since their daughter's birth and from the day of the return. Peter held the hand of his six-year-old girl and watched his daughter's eyes widen with adoration at the sight of her mother running to them, emerald cloak flying across her shoulders. From that moment, he knew with a sinking heart that his daughter possessed the same wildness and brazenness that would eventually be the death of his wife. And from that moment, the fear took root in his heart and he mourned prematurely for his child.

"...gave her life for humanity in the field of battle..."

Peter Ral's known from the moment Petra joined the military. From the moment he received that damn letter and saw Levi walk past just a minute ago, alone.

But despite knowing, he still crumbles. He's been desperate for so long, struggling to stay hopeful on the outside, for Petra. And despite his grave self-assurances that this day would come—had to come—Peter Ral convinces himself for what's not the last time that there was nothing else he could have done.

Today, she's finally gone.

Inevitable. That's what this was.

"My daughter," the man moans, falling behind, a broken stone in the river of emerald cloaks. "My sweet girl..."

Levi lets a few exhausted Corps members take care of Petra's father, and they lead him to a stair along the side of the road on which he sits, head in hands, like he's always been there mourning and always will be.

The captain forces himself to move forward towards Wall Rose, readying himself for what's no doubt to be a long ride to the former Corps headquarters today. The King's messenger delivered the letter barely after they were safely within the walls of Karanes. The letter that stated due to crimes against humanity, Commander Erwin, all Corps captains and lieutenants, and the shifting titan would be taken into custody and tried in Mitras three days from now. A Military Police escort was to meet them at midday by the outer gates of Stohess to accompany the criminals into Mitras.

Three days.

The way things are going, Levi briefly considers how the Council will organize his execution. As a spectacle, most likely. Maybe a hanging. He considers it. Objectively, hanging's not the worst way to die.

But now is not the time to think like a dead man. Instead, Levi fixes his eyes ahead.

He watches Erwin's straight shoulders and calm stride part the crowds of hatred and spite like a sea, the words and accusations glancing off his cape like rainwater. Clear eyes that are always focused on something beyond that no one can quite see. Just by looking at the Commander's steady gait, Levi has no doubt.

Three days.

After reaching HQ in the evening and dismissing the remaining Recon Corps members, the summoned members will strategize in the old manor for a two nights. And by the look on Erwin's face, he's already churning through plans to get the Corps out of this shitty, bureaucratic mess.

Three days.

Three days is more than enough.

Year 850, Karanes

Medic Joli

There's a little boy on a roof.

Away from the outer gate, the crowd's largely dissipated, but clumps of people still line the edges of the canal and wide road, watching and yelling the occasional vulgarity.

Joli watches them, raising a dark eyebrow. Eight months ago, she would've snapped long ago, punched some ignorant old man in the face and dared him to see exactly how sharp his "tax dollars" had made her blades. Today, she carries herself high, without apology, but without insult either. She's learned that it's futile, after all, to try and convince the world of something it adamantly refuses to believe.

A belief like that she, and the rest of the Recon Corps, carry value.

A belief that, with each mounting body, becomes increasingly less convincing.

"Moooooooooooom," the little boy on the roof shouts. His tinny voice carries, impossibly loud and innocent and expectant over their heads. Joli doesn't consider herself particularly maternal, but he's so small and dirty, it tempts her to rappel to his side and lick her thumb and clean his face. "Mooooooooooooooooom!"

His eyes screen every women in a green cape, and his voice soon disappears behind them.

Sophie cries quietly, clutching her barely swollen belly on the cart next to Joli.

"I know," Joli tells her friend. "Kid's cute. But if you really think about it objectively, how wasn't this inevit—"

"Hey, Sophie," Joshua interrupts, giving Joli an unamused look. He places a hand on the side of the cart as he walks, and his bronze hair glints when he leans forward to bring his face closer to that of his sobbing wife. After a moment, she wipes her face with a torn sleeve and reaches over to touch his hand. Her short hair dances on her shoulders as the cart moves, her soft features gradually untwisting under Joshua's touch.

They walk like that, quiet, for so long that it makes Joli's jaw tight. The medic turns her head, letting her horse drift slightly to the right to get away from Sophie and Joshua and their tenderness. Those soft words and looks make her neck tense up and want to draw a blade to protect them, or at least shout in their faces to stop. The world does not treat that kind of vulnerability gently, she's learned. Cruelty targets sensitivity and tears you to pieces until nothing's left but scar tissue. It's much safer to be sarcastic than sincere.

"Sophie, my love," Joshua murmurs in a tone Joli's never heard from him before, a tone that makes her cheeks warm and feel like she's intruding. The lieutenant's so used to her captain's loud laughter and confident humor, it feels like a stranger that's speaking so tenderly. "It's okay, it's okay..."

"I'm taking a walk, you old married couple," Joli mutters to no one, ignoring her aching muscles and leading her horse into a brisk pace on foot. She passes a few dozen soldiers, weaving in and out of their tired procession until only Erwin and his surviving tacticians and captains remain in front of her.

It strikes her dully that the parade is so much shorter coming home.

"Boo, you suck!"

A half-heartedly thrown tomato bursts at the cobblestone under her feet. Joli pauses to sweep it aside with her boot. It splashes and sinks into the canal.

"Look at how few of them there are..."

Her hair begins to pull at the roots, making her scalp sore. Joli unties her bun, letting dust-covered, rust-colored hair tumble to her waist. Better.

"I hear they're heading for Mitras—"

"—criminals. It sure took the King long enough to realize how much of a waste—"

"Did that titan brat die?"

"He died?"

"I dunno, I was asking you—"

"Idiots," she coughs, then looks up, startled, at the voice that spoke in tandem next to her.

"Ah," Levi says, seeming mildly surprised for a moment, before turning back to the road. "It's you."

"Captain," Joli greets, blinking. She lets out a breath, slightly relieved at the distraction. "Where've you been these past few hours? It's been far too long."

"It hasn't," Levi replies flatly, but examines her for a moment as if seeing if she's offended. Joli returns with a patient look.

After another few yards, he adds, "Barely enough time for my foot to recover from you 'treating' it."

She seems to brighten at the banter.

"I'll have you know, my bandaging is award-winning in Mitras. The only reason you're walking, no—alive right now is because I wrapped that leg for you. And for free, mind you."

They wordlessly duck as a bucket of unidentifiable liquid splashes at them from the roof of a passing house.

"But if you're displeased with my services," Joli continues coyly, "as a more permanent solution, I'd be more than happy to amputate the entire leg for you. There's no risk of a broken ankle if you don't have a foot, after all."

Levi snorts, pulling his horse away from a man who grabs at any Corps member who comes near and yells in their faces about all the land he's lost and all the people he needs to feed.

"That some sort of shit urban legend?"

She tilts her head at him, hair falling so long down her spine that it makes Levi wonder how much dust must collect among the thick strands. Her gray eyes widen and the mouth opens into a sarcastic bow. "How'd you know?"

Joli quirks her mouth up so he knows she's joking.

"I heard that one in med school from an old kooky professor," she explains, fair face finally starting to relax, "but there's another good one about treating rashes..."

She tapers off, and Levi follows her eyes back beyond the road.

"We're almost out," Joli comments, keeping her tone light. Her hand touches the neck of her horse absentmindedly, the usually confident fingers knotted absently into chestnut mane. "I suppose this is what they call...our home stretch."

The approaching crowd surrounds the inner gate like a clot, ready to throw one last insult before the Corps leaves their city.

"Watch for flying vegetables," he warns flatly as they approach the booing.

"I'm much more susceptible to the verbal abuse," Joli responds brightly, almost forcefully. "They sure make me want to rethink all my life choices."

The Corps enters the fray.

Joli Lieber holds her head up. She cools her expression, shielding herself with the knowledge that public opinion is turbulent. The insults aren't personal. They don't understand how organs feel under gloved hands, or how to resuscitate a stopped heart while riding breakneck pace on the back of a horse-drawn cart, or the ridiculous amount of bleach you need to clean medical cloaks. They don't understand that she needs weeks to fully recover from each expedition. They don't understand her mind, or what she's done to survive. They don't understand that she's lost people too.

"I knew a girl from Karanes once," she tells Levi, posture lofty as she watches the angry crowd.

He wonders briefly if it hurts her neck to hold her head so high all the time.

"I mentored her and some other trainees in our Medic Corps, but they weren't properly trained and were eaten on their first expedition. Really sad, but considering everything, pretty inevitable. I tried to treat a few of them, but there wasn't much left to hold together..."

"Medic," Levi says.

"I'll be honest," Joli whispers to him, peering at the jeering crowd with impervious eyes.

Behind that, though, Levi captures a glint of her hurt in the reluctance with which she meets his eyes again, as if afraid of him knowing that she, despite her pride, is vulnerable to hurt as well. The hurt which is the small, pulsing creature curled right beneath the thin skin of her forehead that moves and writhes only when it's alone with her. The kind that must keep her awake and cause her excruciating pain at night.

Joli laughs overly jauntily at his expression, her sharp jaw that opens with pulleys and gears instead of humor.

"Ironic, isn't it? I've never felt so unwelcome coming back home."

A man spits bitterly in their direction.

"It's okay, you know," Levi says flatly, "to not be okay."

She blinks forward for a moment before turning to him, chin tilted up again and smile wry as if she finds his attempts to console her cute. "I'm alive, you're alive," she explains, a little softer. "The Commander's alive, Joshua and Sophie and their baby are alive. Not the shittiest day ever, I'd say."

Levi watches her gray eyes for a second.

The pupils are firm, barely quivering around the edges. The hurt's disappeared almost completely from her face, suppressed in a purse-lipped smile. Through sheer willpower, the medic's drowned the distress of the last few hours in pride and sass and distractions like this conversation. Joli's not lying when she says she's okay, but Levi can tell she's not being completely truthful either. But she seems to have convinced herself of her own strength, so he lets it go. He's learned that it's futile to try and convince someone of something that they adamantly refuse to believe.

So instead of questioning her further, the captain shrugs noncommittally and turns forward again. "I've seen shittier."

The medic hums in agreement. "We didn't end up dying, which is a win."

"Yeah."

She gestures playfully at Erwin and his straight shoulders. "And the Commander seems as confident as ever."

"Mm."

"Which scares and comforts me at the same time. You know the feeling?"

"Maybe."

A whole block passes in silence between them, filled instead with the tears and spit of hundreds of Karanes residents aimed at them. Joli watches them placidly, observing the faces twisted in grief and hatred and knowing they can't touch her unless she allows them to. On the opposite hand, she notices how Levi always looks straight ahead as he walks, like he's already seen his share of people who hate him and doesn't need the condemnation of any more. The medic and the soldier are simultaneously affected by but invincible to the crowd in their own ways.

After a long while, when the gates of Wall Rose appear over the rooftops, Joli lets out a breath.

"...We could be hanged in three days."

Levi tries his best not to limp even though the numbness and adrenaline of his broken bone is long gone, replaced by pain and a stiffness that he recognizes as a fracture. He remembers that this medic bears the title of Lieutenant, the medic equivalent of Commander-in-Chief. Briefly, Levi narrows his eyes at Erwin's untouchable back. The Commander had better get them the hell out of this mess before Levi sees another corpse. He suddenly pictures the first one in a long line of them: a girl with autumn hair and a bride white coat, choker of rope around her proud neck and strung up right in front of him.

Her gray eyes, wide open.

Joli looks at him expectantly. Levi turns forward.

"We could be."

"Or we could go rogue. Run away."

"You want to spend your whole life running?" he asks listlessly. "They'd hunt you down and gut you like an animal until they find what they're looking for."

She turns to him slightly, hair rustling. Her voice turns coy, but her eyes are serious.

"Not if you keep quiet."

Levi gauges her expression before scoffing. "What do you know about keeping quiet?"

She pauses as if catching herself. "Evidently nothing. I do talk too much, don't I?"

Her eyes, as always, betray her.

She's an awful liar.

Joli coughs once. "So we won't run. Who knows what'll happen to us now though, Captain. I suppose this is a situation that calls for Erwin's 'shit-covered hands'."

"...What do you mean?"

"This," Joli gestures to the jeering crowd, dark in the shadow of the approaching gates of Wall Rose. After what feels like an eternity, they're finally leaving Karanes.

"We're to be tried in Mitras in three days," the medic muses. "We've lost more members physically and mentally today than in the last few expeditions combined. Public opinion, low before, hit rock bottom from the moment we reentered Wall Maria. We failed to capture the female titan. The Recon Corps is on indefinite suspension starting today."

And despite the circumstances, Joli's chin quirks up, the familiar and impervious smile back across her lips.

"But you know what, Captain? We're few, but not easy. And I don't have faith in many things, but the Commander fights for us no matter what. Just look at that broad back. Seems untouchable, doesn't it? He must be planning already, digging elbow-deep through this mess to look for something."

Levi turns to her, and she watches the dull blue eyes rove over her face. "...And what the fuck would that be?"

"I don't know," Joli smiles pleasantly. She stretches her arms up, the white coat bunching around her hips as her hands spread across the sky. Her gray eyes close, briefly, before finding him again. And under her easy gaze, for the first time in a while, Levi feels his muscles start to untangle.

Joli laughs at his expression.

"I don't know," she admits again, humming. "But wouldn't it be great to survive long enough to find out?"

A transcript of Joli Lieber's citizenship card (with author's commentary in parentheses):

Name: Joli Ilse Lieber

Birthday: January 2, 825

Age: 25 (and a quarter)

Height: 155 cm (the perfect height to kick where it hurts)

Weight: 46 kg (the perfect weight to maximize 3DMG mobility)

Eye color: gray (Referred to both as 'steely' and 'warm and alive like ashes', Joli's eye color fluctuates greatly depending on her mood. They have been described as 'impossibly perceptive' by her patients and 'occasionally creepy' by Sophie.)

Hair color: brown (More romantically detailed as a 'burnt auburn', Joshua teases Joli often about how long her hair is. To shut him up, Joli leaves out her long bangs and ties the rest of her thick hair into a loose bun when she's on the field. In a completely unrelated matter, Joshua prefers short-haired women.)

Occupation: Recon Corps field medic (Despite her age, Head Medic Joshua Ziegler selected Joli as Lieutenant only three months after she joined the Corps. Her three years of training at the Royal Academy and year of internship Underground set her above the other medics in both experience and technical skill.)

City of residence: Mitras (However, Joli's apartment has been empty for so long that the cleaning lady took it upon herself to dust sheet all of the furniture. This was two years ago.)

(General appearance: fit enough to outmaneuver titans using 3DMG, pretty enough to get hit on by scumbags in bars, young-looking enough to still elicit concern from other adults when she's out by herself

Habits: restlessly moving her hands (she could really use a fidget spinner), practicing perfect posture to compensate for her petite size

Hobbies: bathing, organizing, knitting socks, reading medical journals to satisfy the morbid fascination with modern surgical techniques that she inherited from Steven

Awful at: lying, drinking, expressing condolences

Can't say no to: banter, another round of alcoholic beverages, Sophie's unborn child

Favorite color: unknown

Family: unknown

Criminal record: unknown)