Author's Note: Hi all! Hope you all had a wonderful Xmas and NY, and of course enjoyed Chapter 113's early release ... what a treat for us all. Thank you so much for waiting patiently for this next update. Xmas for me this year was rather eventful and hectic - I shan't bore you with the details, as this is neither the time nor place, however I would like to reassure you all that as I've now started my Mat Leave for the impending arrival, I *should* be able to dedicate a bit more time to this again!
I'll apologise now for the way this chapter ends ... try not to hate me too much! XD
ARC 3: THE FORGE
'To create something strong, enduring, or successful.'
CHAPTER 21: Of Letters and Glass Vials
In stark contrast to Captain Levi and Jean's time at the Orphanage, the days of Connie and Sasha's watch seemed to drag lazily by. Historia found herself, for the first time since she could remember, becoming impatient with the children over the most menial of things. Not picking their feet up when they scurried down the stairs for breakfast; taking too long to identify a word when practicing reading; being too clumsy when helping with the daily chores. Scalding the little orphans for such trivial things wasn't like the good natured, young Queen at all. But try as she might, Historia couldn't shake the short temper which seemed to have crept up on her since the Captain's departure.
Historia's mind was increasingly plagued with questions and uncertainties as she prepared for bed on the last night of Connie and Sasha's watch. The dream about Petra Ral was certainly one of the most insistent topics in her thoughts, and although she kept telling herself it was more than likely just a conjuring of her imagination, a part of her just wanted to broach the topic with the Captain - if only to put her mind at ease. If she could just have five minutes alone with him again; just to hear him say that she was being ridiculous and dramatic, and how could she possibly be dreaming about real events she hadn't witnessed? And how could she think that he would ever cross that line of professionalism with one of his subordinates? She could hear his deep voice, utterly unimpressed, and see his stoic features as he raised an eyebrow at her in her mind's eye. She allowed herself to indulge in the image of him for a moment or so, savouring the sharp line of his jaw and the cool grey of his eyes, wishing so much he was actually there in front of her. That way she could agree to being such a little fool and throw herself against the understated line of his lips, and feel him give in to kissing her until they both forgot about the whole stupid business.
Her eyes wandered over to the top drawer of the dresser beside her bed, where she kept her writing things, amongst other personal effects ... such as a certain set of glass vials given to her by Commander Hange.
Perhaps a letter? She sighed. No, this wasn't the sort of thing she could just put in writing to him. She would sound absurd!
Historia threw herself exasperatedly backwards across her bed, the plush duvet cushioning her impact. She closed her eyes.
The thing was, it wasn't only the sullen Captain's absence that had Historia feeling out of sorts. There was an absence of another kind which she also found at the forefront of her thoughts.
The absence of blood.
Her palm found its way to her abdomen subconsciously, and she suddenly felt very cold, lying there alone in her bed.
It was the afternoon of Mikasa and Armin's first day on watch when the letter arrived. George had kindly offered to give the front porch of the Farmhouse a fresh coat of paint to see it through the autumn and winter seasons, and had seized the opportunity of a dry day following the recent heavy rains they had experienced. It was he who met the mail boy when he arrived on his little grey mare at the end of the dirt road.
"Mornin'. Got a letter here for her Majesty, Queen Historia."
George frowned as he strolled up to the boy, paintbrush still in hand. "Military correspondence? But that's normally handled by the officials – not the public post?"
"Yeah, well this ain't military business." The boy didn't offer the letter, merely staring at George.
George's frown deepened. "The Queen doesn't really get anything via public post. Are you sure it's not –"
The boy puffed out his chest dramatically, the postal badge on his uniform glinting just above George's eye level. "Checked it myself, sir. Nothing untoward here. Just looks like a letter from someone looking to make a donation of books to the Orphanage here, or somethin' of the sort."
George nodded. "Alright, then. Well if you pass it to me, I'll make sure she gets it."
There was still no move from the boy to offer the letter. "Any correspondence to Royalty should be handed over personally. Is her Majesty home?"
George sighed. "If it's just a letter about donations, I don't see why-"
"George! Do you want a quick tea break?" He was abruptly interrupted by a blond head appearing around the front door of the Farmhouse. Historia immediately caught sight of the mail boy and smiled warmly. "Well hello! Do we have mail?"
Before George could protest, Historia was at his side, reaching for the letter now offered willingly by the boy as he sat astride his mare.
"Apparently, it's something about someone wanting to make a donation." George glanced from the boy to Historia, unable to suppress his irritation.
"Oh, how nice!" Historia's blue eyes lit up with excitement, and George couldn't ignore the way his stomach lurched slightly at the sight. She never failed to knock the wind out of him with her sheer loveliness.
The mail boy was smiling back at her admiringly. "It's a pleasure to deliver it to you, your Majesty. I was asked to see that it got to you personally. I believe it's about the donation of a collection of books, and, um …" the boy seemed to falter slightly, as though unsure of the next words that came out of his mouth, "a particular red leather armchair you're familiar with?"
George raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he didn't miss the fleeting look of recognition across the Queen's features as she snatched the letter from the boy's hands.
"How strange! I'll take a look right away. Would you like some tea for your troubles?"
The boy shook his head. "That's quite alright, I best be getting on. If I could bother you for a quick drink for the horse, though, that would be well appreciated," he replied gratefully.
Historia nodded, turning back towards the farmhouse. "George? Would you mind?" she asked distractedly, her eyes already trained on the letter in her hands.
But before George even had chance to reply, she had disappeared off towards the house.
Historia raced up the stairs to her bedroom, her heart pounding. She really hoped she had interpreted the boy's words correctly … but then, what else could he mean? It had to be.
Who else did she know that was fond of a red leather armchair?
Closing her bedroom door carefully behind her, she padded over to her bed and perched herself comfortably, before tearing open the letter. A swarm of butterflies erupted in her stomach as she recognised the simple, functional script of Levi's hand. It was a little messy, just as it had been when he had sent her the last letter about the pregnancy plan. It was probably the only thing in his life that wasn't subject to his obsessively strict neatness, she thought, amused for a moment.
'Historia,
It's been a rather eventful first day back. In all honesty, I'm not really sure where to start with it all. Well … dinner was a pile of shit. Someone attempted a stew. There was no bread left. And it was watery as pig's piss. Actually made me miss your passable cooking. A bit.
Fuck, I'm no good at this.
The thing is, Hange showed me something tonight which I think you ought to see for yourself. I don't know if it's already happened for you, or not, but there's a chance … well, you might have had some more weird dreams. If you haven't, there's a good chance you will have by the time I see you again.
I also imagine that by the time this gets to you, you'll have a good idea whether things have gone to plan, if you catch my drift. I … hope you're OK. Public post is damn slow, but I didn't want this going through official military channels, just in case. Keep us updated, if you can. Don't forget about those piss tests shit glasses gave you.
Anyway, I think we need to talk face to face, the sooner the better. I'm aware you're scheduled to come to the Capitol at some point next week for final arrangements for the Banquet, or whatever crap it is they have planned for you– waiting on orders from Hange, but I imagine we'll be escorting you. I'll arrange a meeting between you and I to address security protocol – we can talk more then.
I don't know if any of what I said about weird dreams made sense to you ... in all honesty, I sort of hope it didn't. If it did … I imagine I should apologise now. Whatever you saw. There's fuck all pleasantness, which I can remember, anyway. I'm sorry, Historia.
I don't normally write personal shit, so not quite sure how to end this. See you next week, I suppose.
Keep your chin up.
L.'
Historia realised she had been holding her breath as she reached the end of the letter. She let the air out of her lungs in a low hiss, trying to digest the Captain's words.
He knew about her dream?
What's more, rather than the entirely dismissive or even somewhat incredulous reaction she had been so desperately anticipating from him, it seemed that his words confirmed what she was afraid of …
The words he had written echoed in her mind:
'There's fuck all pleasantness, which I can remember, anyway. I'm sorry, Historia.'
Could her dream really be a memory of his? But how was that even possible? She'd only ever experienced anything like this with Eren, and that was because of his Titan powers. Captain Levi was certainly not a Titan. But yet his letter seemed to insinuate that she had indeed been right to think that her dream was something more …
If this really was the case, then he and Petra …
Historia glanced down at the letter again.
'Keep your chin up.'
She clenched a fist, crumpling the edge of the paper slightly. It was one kiss; that's all she'd seen. Surely she couldn't be jealous of a dead girl!?
Historia had felt the pangs of jealousy before, long ago. For foolish things; Ymir laughing and chatting with another pretty girl in the 104th in the Mess Hall; a glance from her freckled friend which had lingered just a beat too long on someone else in the showers. She had never voiced any of this aloud, of course – sweet, good natured Krista would never allow herself to appear so petty.
Somehow, though, this was different. The sickening knot of jealousy in the pit of her stomach wasn't the overriding feeling as she thought back to the urgency of Petra Ral's lips, the fierce look in those amber eyes. And the hungry way his hands reached for her.
It was deeper. It was as though someone had reached back in time, into her adolescent consciousness, and ripped apart the comfortable, familiar image of the unapproachable yet dutiful Captain. The hurt she felt wasn't for some shallow, foolish crush. It was the hurt of losing the very idea of him, and what he represented to her;
The sullen but ever moral and immovable man.
Levi's taught fist connected with the leather of the heavy punchbag with a snap. The Captain blew air out sharply between his teeth as he pulled his arm back for another strike. The metal chains holding the bag aloft groaned as the object shifted with the force of his impact. He twisted nimbly, gracefully swinging his small foot around with a flick, finishing the sequence with a neat kick which caused the bag to swing away from him. He snatched his towel from beside the apparatus to wipe the sweat from his neck and shoulders, clicking his tongue slightly in disgust, before stalking over to the weights section of the training hall.
It was the fifth day since he had departed the Orphanage, and four days since he had sent his letter to Historia. Public mail was typically infuriatingly slow, but even so it should have reached her by now, if only just. The few silver coins Levi had slipped into the palm of the mail boy may have afforded him the reassurance of a ruse involving some fake donation to hide the real purpose of his letter, but even money couldn't do anything about the shitty speed of the public service.
Levi took his time selecting 150kg of weights and loading them onto a barbell. He prepared to lift, before catching sight of his reflection in the one of the long mirrors lining the walls. He scowled at the short, sallow-skinned figure clad in black training vest and pants. No amount of training was ever going to make him fucking taller, was it? He turned his back to the mirror and proceeded to lift. Despite the significant amount of weight he had prepared, the barbell rose easily in his grasp. He felt a small glow of satisfaction overtake the previous irritation his appearance provoked.
Several repetitions later, just as he was contemplating upping the weights, the door to the training room clattered open. Levi paused, glancing round to assess who else was joining him for an early morning workout. He always chose this time specifically due to the facilities being particularly empty, and it irked him when he found he had company.
Eren Jaeger strolled through the doorway, closely followed by Floch Forster, to Levi's surprise. He watched silently as the pair made their way over to the punchbags Levi had previously been using, apparently oblivious to his presence.
Floch was chattering animatedly to Eren.
"I'm just saying, the Banquet would be a great opportunity, if you wanted to, that's all."
Eren didn't look at the red haired youth, instead preoccupied with wrapping his knuckles with tape. "Mhmm."
Levi narrowed his eyes at the pair. He watched Eren push his increasingly shaggy hair back off his forehead.
"You know, you look scruffy as shit with that hair, Jaeger."
The two young soldiers started at the Captain's words.
"Sir," Eren turned rapidly, inclining his head at Levi. "I didn't realise you were in here!"
"Tch. Probably couldn't see me past that mop on your skull." Levi rolled his eyes, before turning to appraise Floch. "Although I'm not sure what your excuse is, Forster."
Floch hesitated for a split second, before thumping his fist to his chest in salute. "Sorry, Captain. I should pay more attention."
Levi stared stoically at the pair. "Relax, kid. It's early, hence why I'm here, trying to indulge in some peace, actually. I'm assuming you both had the same idea."
Levi didn't miss the furtive glance Floch cast towards Eren, although the Titan Shifter kept his eyes trained on Levi.
"Tends to be quieter early morning, yeah. Just wanted to get some extra training in before the Banquet; just in case, you know," Eren replied.
Levi nodded once. "Hange is almost done with the final plan. I'll call you to a meeting in the next couple of days to discuss roles and go over any last minute questions." He bent to dismantle the barbell and weights. He didn't much feel like sharing the previously quiet space with the two Scouts before him. For some reason, the adoring way Floch was traipsing around after Eren particularly irritated him.
The weights were flung with ease back onto their stand, Levi ignoring the slight jump from Floch as metal clanged loudly against metal.
"I'm done here, anyway. Enjoy your workout." He didn't turn to regard the pair before leaving the Training Hall, his towel flicked lazily over his shoulder.
Levi contemplated heading straight back to his quarters to get cleaned up – he hated the disgusting way that his vest clung to his sweat soaked skin post workout – but curiosity made him hesitate. It wouldn't be too much of a detour to call by Hange's office, and if anyone other than him would have had word from Historia, it would be the Commander. Although it was probably still too early to expect any sort of update, he reminded himself. Despite this, he turned in the direction of the Senior Offices, clenching his jaw against the faint scent of body odour on his skin.
Hange was sat at her desk, apparently deep in thought, when Levi stuck his head around her door. He didn't bother knocking; she wouldn't be with anyone else at this hour. She'd recently taken to rising earlier and earlier before breakfast, pouring over plans for the upcoming Banquet, but also, Levi noticed, studying the diary of Freya Fritz obsessively. Today she had the tatty journal open atop the desk in front of her.
"You're not still studying that thing!?" Levi asked incredulously as Hange glanced up at his sudden appearance in her office.
"Morning to you too, Levi."
Levi ignored her pleasant greeting. "Surely you've learned all you can from it by now? How many times have you read it? Like five?"
Hange smiled, shaking her head. "Six. And there's always something new to consider; a different angle."
Levi sighed. "If you say so. Well just keep me in the loop, will you?" He strolled towards her desk, eyeing up the chair placed across from her. The presence of old, stained coffee cups and unknown crumbs scattered across the surface of her desk made him hesitate, however. He settled on leaning casually against a bookcase, instead. "Speaking of which … any word from Historia yet?"
Hange bit her lip. "Nothing yet. But it's still a little early for her to know anything, isn't it?"
Levi merely shrugged his shoulders. He was doing his very best to appear unconcerned one way or the other about the whole situation. But it was proving difficult.
"I suppose so."
Part of him just wished she was fucking pregnant. That way he could justify walking away. Doing them both a favour. He would have fulfilled his duty to her; he wouldn't have to think any more about touching her again, or developing shitty feelings for her, or the way her blue eyes dared him to make her moan his name every time he kissed her …
That familiar heat began in the pit of his stomach again.
"Levi?"
Hange was frowning at him. Had she asked him something? Fuck.
"Sorry, what?" Levi shook his head, trying to banish the image of Historia's seductive eyes.
Hange eyed him suspiciously. "You alright?"
"Of course, Four Eyes. I just remembered I'm out of cleaning fluid again. You were saying?"
Hange laughed manically. "I should have known it could only be thoughts of cleaning that make you that misty eyed." She adjusted her glasses. "I was saying, she's due in the Capitol in a few days, anyway. I've already sent official correspondence with the details of her visit. She may just tell us then. She should have a good idea by that point, anyway, if my calculations are correct."
Levi brushed his hair back with his palm. If she still wasn't pregnant …
"What's the plan if it's not worked? Where do we go from there?"
Hange raised her one visible eyebrow at him. "Well, I would have thought that was pretty obvious, Levi …"
Levi slumped back against the bookcase, groaning. "Brilliant."
Hange shook her head at him. "This has to work, Levi. We have to protect Historia for as long as we can, and extract as much information from Zeke as possible. Until we figure out what this 'secret plan' fully entails, he can't be eaten. As much as I'm sure you'd love to see that."
"Wrong." Levi cocked his head. "What I'd really like to do, is carve the bastard up like a nice joint of meat. One limb at a time. Then maybe use my blades to transform him into a lovely spit roast pig ... one down his throat; one up his ass. Fuck the mercy of just being a quick Titan snack. Just be hopeful I can keep my self control if and when the ugly git does eventually arrive on this island."
Hange merely snorted. Levi knew the Commander was far too used to his graphic and violent threats to even quirk an eyebrow these days.
"Besides," he continued, "do you not think I realise what's at stake here? I wouldn't have agreed otherwise. Even with these fucking curve balls you keep throwing at me, like that shitty journal. Doesn't mean I have to like any of it."
A small smile played across Hange's lips. "You're honestly the only man I know who would complain about getting laid."
Levi grimaced. "You honestly think I'm enjoying any of this?"
Hange fixed him with her gaze seriously. "Yes."
"Tch." Levi rolled his eyes, but refused to meet her gaze again. Fucking Shitty Glasses.
"No one would blame you, you know," Hange pointed out.
Levi ignored the statement. "Well, she may have changed her mind by now, if she's been subjected to any of the delights of my wonderful past. If's she's got any sense, she'll be seriously reconsidering choosing me to have any part in this."
It was Hange's turn to roll her eye, now. "No one is under the delusion that you are or ever have been an angel, Levi."
Levi sighed, pushing himself off the bookcase and reaching for her door. He raised one eyebrow at her, poised to leave. "You don't know the fucking half of it, Hange."
Historia kept the Captain's letter locked securely away in her top drawer. In the days that followed its arrival, she contemplated replying to it more than once; but really, what could she possibly say?
He was right. It was best to talk face to face. And Petra Ral was certainly not the only topic Historia needed to address with him.
The days of Mikasa and Armin's watch rolled as slowly by as Connie and Sasha's. The weather remained overcast; the rain came in fits and starts, resulting in the children spending less time playing outside, and getting under Historia's feet even more so. She missed the days where she could take pleasure in their laughter, and the innocent wonder which brewed persistent questions about anything and everything. Recently she just felt frustrated by their presence. Their idle chatter did nothing to subdue the sickly feeling in her stomach, and their sweet faces only served to remind her of Commander Hange's vials of clear liquid awaiting her, tucked away with Levi's letter in her top drawer.
Historia received word about her planned visit to the Capitol the morning after Levi's letter had arrived. Unlike Levi's letter, this communication was delivered via a surly looking military official, his leggy bay steed a million miles away from the small, dumpy grey mare of the public mail boy.
Historia swept her fingers over the spiky, erratic script she knew belonged to Commander Hange as she settled herself in the sitting room with a cup of tea. Mercifully, the children were currently attending school, so she was granted a welcome slice of peace to read the contents of the letter. Compared to Levi's writing, there was a distinct lack of disjointedness, cursing, and it was grammatically perfect.
Her blue irises roved quickly over the paragraphs. She was due to travel to the Capitol on what would have been the first day of Levi and Jean's watch. The Captain would be escorting her. From the day of her arrival, she had been scheduled to attend several meetings to discuss proceedings at the Banquet, alongside appointments to select suitable attire for the event.
It was all pretty standard protocol so far. However, Historia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned the page over. Her eyes swept over the heading 'George's Schedule.'
Unlike her own, there was no mention of important meetings to discus security, general proceedings and the like, but there were appointments for suit fittings and general grooming, as well as one entitled 'Appropriate Conduct.'
Of course. How had it slipped her mind?
Commander Hange was planning to use the Banquet as an opportunity to draw attention to George's presence in Historia's life, to cool any suspicions that might have arisen from her closeness with the Captain. When Historia fell pregnant, George had to seem like the most likely candidate for the father. Her child must appear the product of a perfectly innocent and natural relationship. Not a secret plan deployed by the Survey Corps behind the government's back.
She knew all this, but since the night of that first staged and awkward kiss with George which was witnessed by the MPs, Historia had become too enthralled in the Captain to consider any next moves. Not for the first time, the young Queen felt the cold stab of reality at her back. Her relationship with Levi really was nothing more than a means to an end; a plan which must be executed carefully and efficiently, regardless of what unexpected feelings he had begun to stir inside her.
She sighed as her eyes moved to the final paragraph of the letter.
'I realise George will potentially be needed at the Orphanage in your absence, Historia, so I have arranged for him to travel separately and a few days later than yourself. It wouldn't be appropriate for him to travel with you at this stage, anyhow. I've also arranged for Frederick and Henrietta to oversee the Orphanage again. I hope this works for you.'
The Commander really had thought of everything once again. Historia folded the letter neatly and popped it into her blouse pocket, before taking a long sip of her tea. She best break the news to him of his impending Capitol visit over dinner that evening.
Levi brushed his fingers over the freshly shaven skin of his lower jaw as he contemplated the schedule laid out in front of him. The pages were filled with Hange's spidery writing; not typically the easiest to read, but luckily for him, he had had years of practice with this particular script.
She really had planned the Queen's time at the Capitol very thoroughly. So thoroughly, in fact, that he was struggling to figure out any opportunity he might have to speak with Historia privately. Let alone engage in any other action, should she not yet be fucking pregnant, The Walls help him.
He sighed, rubbing a palm across his forehead.
And then there would be George to babysit, too, when he arrived. Four Eyes best have arranged for someone other than him to entertain Farm Boy. There was already enough on his plate.
He swept his eyes over the document once more, before finally selecting an hour gap on the afternoon of the second day. He snatched up his pencil to add a notation. It was just before an appointment entitled 'Dress Fitting.' Levi decided it couldn't be that important if they did happen to run over. How long would it really take for her to try on some fancy dress?
Not that she really needed some over the top ballgown, anyway. The girl could turn up to that Banquet in an old potato sack and still look glorious. The perfect contours of her body began to materialise in his minds eye; her strong yet perfectly proportioned shoulders framed by ethereal blond hair, which cascaded delicately to somewhere just above the small of her back, the tips of golden strands brushing against small dimples, before the smooth, porcelain skin became the perfect curve of her ass ...
"Damnit!" Levi grit out in frustration as the tip of his pencil lead snapped suddenly. How long had he been grinding it in that one spot on the page?
This was fucking ridiculous. He was fucking ridiculous.
Fantasising over some nineteen year old girl. He lent back in his chair, glaring at the ceiling angrily. He wasn't fit to be a Captain.
His mind suddenly swam with the image of amber eyes, and he cursed again under his breath.
Petra ...
He felt the facade slip for just a second. But it was enough. There she was, laughing at him as he mopped the spilt tea up from his desk. And he was laughing too.
Until he wasn't. Until he was looking down at those same amber eyes, now dull and lifeless as her small, broken body lay at the foot of a tree. Blood trailed across her cheek, forever blemishing that face which had once been full of such hope and promise for the future.
He was a selfish bastard.
She had thrown herself at him so enthusiastically; so determined.
He was her Captain. She his subordinate. The military forbade it. There was only one simple outcome.
And yet ... she was so lovely, and so persistent, and her charming smile never failed to stir something within him. Her finger tips felt so familiar when they brushed his skin. He needed what she was offering him, he couldn't help himself.
He was a selfish bastard, alright.
Would she have been just a second quicker, that day, had he not indulged her fantasies of him? Would she have reacted differently; made better judgement, had he not been on her mind?
He prayed to god he wasn't the last thought Petra had.
And he'd be fucking damned if he was the last thought Historia would have, too.
His mind wandered back to the young Queen, and he felt that familiar knot in his chest. Did she know her fate, by this point? Had she taken Hange's test?
He thought suddenly how lonely it must be, watching and waiting for the disgusting mixture of piss and whatever was in Hange's weird concoction to change colour. It was blue if she was with child, wasn't it?
Had his mother been alone, when she found out she had been cursed with the child of some client? He highly doubted she had access to some chemical test to prove his impending existence.
At least this child would have the sun on it's back and fresh air to breath.
As Levi settled back into his armchair, finally abandoning the paperwork in front of him, he prayed for blue, and to be done with melting under the gaze of Historia Reiss' perfect blue eyes.
The amber ones which seemed to follow him everywhere he went were enough.
By the evening of the third day of Mikasa and Armin's watch, Historia's resolve finally crumbled completely. She had spent the entirety of their evening meal pushing her vegetables gingerly around her plate, her appetite nowhere to be seen. She noticed even Mikasa's curious eyes trailing her empty fork as she twisted it between her pale fingers.
Enough was enough. Her anxiousness was getting ridiculous. One simple test would easily put her mind at ease. Being this on edge would surely only delay her monthly blood all the more.
Her eyes suddenly shot up from her plate, flicking around the faces sat around the table with her. She smiled warmly.
"Excuse me, all of you. I just need to nip to the bathroom." She was aware of the many gazes scrutinising her as she rose, tucking her chair away carefully. "I'll be back shortly to serve dessert, of course! Won't be long."
She scurried up the stairs without glancing back, her feet heavy as though she were wading through treacle.
Were there always this many steps up to her bedroom? The journey had seemed so much shorter when she had been racing up to a waiting Levi.
Her fingers fumbled shakily as she reached inside her drawer. Brushing over the well-handled paper within, Historia had to fight back the urge to read over his letter once more. Finally, they landed on the smooth, cold, cylindrical surface of a vial. She pulled the item out slowly, before holding it up to the last of the day's light bleeding through her window panes.
So this could be it, then. Her fate sealed by one little vial of clear liquid.
She tucked the item into her blouse pocket and headed down to the bathroom, her heart thundering and the blood rushing in her ears.
Making sure the door was locked securely, she set about taking the Commander's test as instructed.
She was grateful that no-one was around to see how severely her fingers shook as she tipped the contents of the little vial into the cup filled with her pee. Even breathing took conscious effort as she settled herself on the side of the bath tub, and waited.
The seconds ticked by languidly, and Historia became ever aware of the sickening fear beginning to manifest in her chest. It was almost suffocating. She closed her eyes, praying for calm, but instead her vision was flooded with images of the Captain, his face cold as he turned away from her, his duty to her fulfilled. If she opened her eyes to see blue, it was very likely that she had lost him.
There were so many yet unspoken questions on her lips, and the more she discovered, somehow the less she felt she knew about the dark, moody soldier. How could she let go of him, when he was just becoming something more than the scowl, green cloak and title?
Holding her breath, Historia reopened her eyes. She reached an unsteady hand for the cup, and gazed down at the liquid within.
A/N: Soo ... Is she pregnant yet? Isn't she? What do you think? Do you WANT her to be? I'm sorry to leave it there ... but I promise I'll have the next update done for you all as quickly as possible. ANNND our favourite Captain and Queen will of course be reunited ... prepare for the fireworks ;) In the meantime, please do let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Pacing is always something I feel like I struggle with, so any feedback on this would be brilliant! Thank you once again for taking the time to read my fic :D SR x