Author's Note: Hello guys! Hope you're all good :) Thank you for all the support this story is still getting - it really means so much to me that you enjoy it!
So ... without further ado, here's some Banquet action for you - I hope it doesn't disappoint!
ARC 3: THE FORGE
'To create something strong, enduring, or successful.'
CHAPTER 28: Wine, Cologne and Storm Clouds
Historia's pulse fluttered, but she fought to keep her exterior measured as she walked up the stone steps towards the Grand Hall of Trost. Brightly coloured bunting swayed in the light breeze, the lanterns hanging between the rows casting dancing shadows across the path she walked.
She was aware of Levi tailing her closely, the picture of foreboding wrapped up in cold, calm poise; a deadly weapon primed to strike at any threat.
Her lips still burned where he'd kissed her so forcefully, and she wondered whether they were stained dark from the pressure. Would anyone notice?
She wanted to glance back at him so desperately, but she daren't. Her head thrummed with a thousand questions about what had just occurred between them. Had he reconsidered his position? Did he want something more with her? … With their child?
Damn him. His timing was abysmal. All eyes would be on her, and by default, him, for the entirety of the evening, so stealing a moment alone to talk would be out of the question. Her fists clenched unconsciously by her sides as she envisioned shoving him into a quiet corner and demanding what the hell he'd been thinking. Part of her wished she'd kept up her resolve when she'd initially pushed him away. She should have asked him there and then. But the taste of his lips was the only way to satiate that hollow hunger that had grown in her. So she'd surrendered to the moment.
He realised what he was doing to her, didn't he?
A face at the forefront of the crowds caught her eye. She paused her brusque gait momentarily.
"George!"
He beamed, the smattering of freckles on his cheeks curving upwards. His hair no longer hung unruly in his face, but instead was styled in a neat side part, according to the latest fashion in the Capitol, and his lanky frame was adorned with a stunning, slate grey dress suit. He was really rather handsome, beneath the weathering of hard labour.
Stood beside him was Commander Hange; her signature ponytail still present, although slightly less messy. She also looked magnificent in her cobalt Survey Corps dress uniform.
She gave a polite bow to the young Queen, before calling, "we'll catch you inside, Your Majesty!"
Historia didn't miss her brown eye flicking to the Captain behind her. She gave a small nod to him, but said nothing. The Queen wondered what had just passed between them, but there was no time to ponder as she was swept through large oak doors into the entryway.
Levi stared at the back of her blonde head. He hoped to fuck he was managing to keep his expression neutral.
Shit. Bollocks. Fuck.
What had he been thinking?
He cursed his lack of self control. It was pathetic.
But … that frosty exterior she met him with tonight really had broken him. She wasn't meant to be like that. She was all fire and fury; headstrong and passionate and so alive. But those vacant eyes had chilled him, and so he'd had to reach for her. And she'd caught alight again in his hands, fire and fury rekindled.
He was an idiot alright, but he couldn't bear to see her glow smothered like that. All because of him.
Was he really doing this, then?
His head twitched to shake away the thought.
Focus on your duty, asshole. Worry about that later.
His gaze swept the last of the crowd, scanning for any signs of threat. But all he saw were gleeful faces; the excitable throng delighted to catch a glimpse of their darling Queen.
His eyes stilled as they met a familiar pair of green.
Farm Boy.
Well, didn't he scrub up well, in his fancy suit and ridiculously shiny shoes? He tried to pretend that he wasn't impressed, offering no acknowledgement to the man's small head tilt. Instead, he turned his attention to the tall woman with the eye patch standing beside him.
He could feel her one eye searching him; and he knew. She'd be taking in his slightly stiff posture. The few hairs out of place. That small crease in his jacket which he'd never have left his quarters with. And she'd piece it all together.
Nothing got past Zoe Hange.
Her lips settled in a thin line. She nodded at him once, but there were a thousand questions in her glare.
Yes, Four Eyes. My timing could have been a whole lot fucking better.
He'd do his best to avoid her. The interrogation from her would come in the form of disguised words, purposeful gestures and probing stares, in light of their lack of privacy. But it would come non-the-less, and he couldn't be fucked with it tonight.
Especially as he was so bastard confused, himself.
Fucking women. They were like pack animals once you got on the wrong side of one of them.
Historia caught her breath as they entered the main hall.
It looked magnificent, just as promised. Long tables radiated out from a central, circular platform which overflowed with the most delicious looking dishes and platters. There was food and drink of all colours, shapes and sizes, and despite her recently tempestuous stomach, Historia's mouth filled with saliva at the sight.
The seating was separated into different parties: there were areas for military personnel, government officials and the nobles, and members of the general public. There was a raised platform to the top left of the hall, where a small chamber orchestra was playing. The opposite end of the hall to where the Queen and Captain were stood was home to a large marble dancefloor, and beyond this, towering doors opened out to a brightly lit courtyard, where there was more public seating. In the distance, she could just make out the neatly trimmed topiaries of formal gardens.
A hand at her elbow pulled her gaze back.
"I think our seating is to the right over there, am I right?"
Historia turned to look at him for the first time since he'd had his hands all over her in the carriage.
His face betrayed no emotion; the sharp profile of the Captain's nose and chin highlighted in the glow of the extravagant crystal lanterns adorning the hall. He almost looked bored with the proceedings. She envied his ability to do that.
His raised brow told her she'd been staring his way a little too long. She nodded. "Correct, Captain."
Historia watched the proceedings before her with curiosity from her table. Once she had been seated, the other higher ups had taken their places, followed by the waiting crowds of soldiers and the public. It was a sight to behold; the sea of stunning ballgowns and suits now lapping across the hall.
She was sat between Levi and Premier Zackley. The other Commanders were sat further along the table to the left, just past Zackley, and to the other side of Levi on the right were other members of the Paradis Government.
The majority of the table were already on their second drinks; their server hadn't been shy about topping everyone's glasses up as soon as they were half empty.
Historia's own glass of wine sat untouched. Her gaze fell to the dainty flute, and she bit her lip. She hadn't really thought about how to explain that she wouldn't be drinking.
She noticed Levi staring at it, too.
She flicked her eyes sideways to him, and very subtly nudged her foot against his. He met her glance briefly, and she cleared her throat.
There was the subtlest nod of his head, and she watched as his hand crept slowly across the table towards the glass.
"Captain Levi!"
They both jumped as Zackley turned to address him.
"How are you finding training with the new artillery, then? Commander Hange tells me the guns are most effective, once you get the hang of them?"
The Captain's hand stilled. Historia watched him glare at the Premier for a long moment.
Speak, Levi.
"They do a decent enough job. Still prefer a blade, myself."
He straightened, pulling his arm back casually to fiddle with his fork.
She let out the breath she'd been holding.
Zackley cackled. "Well, by the looks of things, those Marley bastards are well past blades. We must move with the times, eh Levi? If they do decide to come calling to Paradis for a full on assault, we need to be prepared. I'm sure you could still handle yourself with just a couple of blades, of course, but we can't all be Humanity's Strongest."
The Captain muttered something unintelligible, but Historia was sure she made out the words 'fucking' and 'hero'. For some reason, his response made her break into a barely masked grin, despite her annoyance at how he'd acted in the carriage.
"Your Majesty – you haven't touched your wine!"
Her grin vanished as she looked over to the Premier.
"Oh? Yes; I ..."
She could feel Levi staring at her. Willing her to brush the observation off with some casual excuse. But her mind was drawing a blank under the Premier's gaze.
A small voice broke the awkward silence.
"Captain, Sir?"
She looked up to see Sasha Braus beside their table. She silently thanked her old friend from the 104th for coming to her rescue.
"What is it, Braus? You're away from your post." Levi fixed his squad member with a penetrating stare.
"Sir, I'm sorry. I was asked by the others if … if it would be alright with you, if …"
"Get to the point, Braus!"
"Sir, Sorry, Sir! Could we cover each other to get some food?" She added, "Please. Sir," almost as an afterthought.
Levi sighed loudly. "Was this the other's idea, or was it your idea?"
Sasha bit her lip, seeming to deliberate about what would be the best answer. Before she had chance to reply, though, Zackley's deep chuckle interrupted.
"Come on now, Levi. Surely we can let the girl enjoy the festivities?"
Historia didn't miss the look of appreciation Sasha gave him.
Levi rolled his eyes. "Fine. Take it in turns, and make sure you're covering each other's areas."
The brunette's eyes lit up. "Thank you, sir!"
Levi merely nodded.
Desperate to avoid any further questioning from Premier Zackley, Historia called to Sasha as she turned away. "Wait! I'll come with you. I'm pretty hungry now, too."
Sasha paused, before turning back and beaming.
Historia rose from her seat, and snatched up the full glass of wine. It's contents sloshed over the side sloppily.
"Good idea, Your Majesty. Make sure you get in there before the riff-raff get their grubby hands on everything," one of the government officials called over. She ignored them, instead turning her attention to Levi.
He was scowling at the man who'd spoken as he rose to follow her.
"I'll be quite fine with Sasha, Captain."
She wanted him to suffer a little, for his constantly changing mood towards her these past days. She knew he'd hate to be away from her side when he was meant to be protecting her.
He halted half way out of his chair, and eyed her uncertainly. "You really should be accompanied."
She rolled her eyes. "Nothing will happen. Besides; you've a good vantage point of the buffet from here. You could be with us in seconds if needed. Stay here; enjoy the wine and the Premier's company."
Zackley missed the sarcasm in her voice, and raised his glass at the pair jovially.
Levi didn't. He offered her a barely masked glower. "Just don't disappear from the hall." His eyes hovered momentarily on the glass of wine in her hand.
She caved a little, her attempt at nonchalance slipping. "Are you hungry? I could grab you a plate."
"No. I'm fine."
His tone was clipped. Crap, he was so much better at this than her.
"Alright."
Sasha chattered animatedly to her all the way to the central area, where people were already swarming around the towering platters of cold meats, bread, fruits and pastries, and servers spooned steaming quantities of broths, stews and other interesting delicacies Historia had never seen before.
Her friend was aglow with excitement.
"Oh wow. Just look at it all, Historia! I mean, Your Majesty … sorry!" She blushed.
Historia shook her head, smiling. "Don't be silly. Now; where to start?"
She was aware of Levi's eyes trained on her as they moved around the different offerings. Historia was a little more selective of her choices, whereas Sasha seemed to snatch up a little bit of everything. Her plate was soon overflowing.
Historia laughed at her. "Sasha, I think you'd better make a start on demolishing that lot before you try and add anything else."
Sasha blinked at the mountain of food in her hands, before glancing longingly back at the unexplored dishes still on offer.
For a moment, Historia let thoughts of Levi, her pregnancy and the throne fade, trying her best to ignore the apprehension in her chest. She laughed at Sahsa again, before balancing her food and wine in one hand and taking the girl's hand in her other. "C'mon."
"Hey."
The pair stopped, turning back to the direction of the male voice.
A Marleyan man was leaning on the edge of one of the food-laden tables. Beside him stood a surly looking Garrison member. His guard, Historia assumed.
The young man had a ladle in one hand, and leaned over to stir one of the dishes casually, his wavy blond hair falling across his eyes as he did so. Historia suddenly recognised him as one of the Marleyan chefs that had been captured from the survey ship to Paradis.
"You should really make sure you try this one – it's a speciality of mine."
Historia noticed his gaze was hooked unwaveringly on Sasha.
"Oh, hey, Niccolo. OK … Sure." She smiled, before dragging Historia over to him.
"Historia, this is Niccolo. He served the most amazing food when we were helping out with the port construction. What was it again, Niccolo?"
"Lobster," the Marleyan chef said simply. He was glaring at Historia.
She attempted a smile. "I'd heard. Pleased to meet you, Niccolo. I'm-"
"I know who you are," he interrupted bluntly. "Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis."
She stiffened at his hostility. "Yes."
He continued to glare. "I suppose you're the reason I've got this miserable idiot trailing after me everywhere." He nodded his head at the Garrison soldier, who looked affronted.
"Hey-"
"Actually, no," Historia corrected him. "But I am the reason you got to serve your dishes here tonight."
He looked suddenly surprised at that.
"Niccolo," Sasha said quietly, "Historia isn't like that. She's actually really lovely. When we first met as cadets, I was made to run laps as a punishment and missed dinner one night. But Historia saved me some bread so I wouldn't be hungry." She turned to the Queen and smiled warmly.
Historia nodded fondly at the memory. She was suddenly reminded of Ymir reprimanding her for her act of kindness, and there was a little twinge in her chest.
Niccolo seemed to battle with himself for a minute, before muttering a begrudged "thanks."
"So – what's this you want me to try?" Sasha asked inquisitively, peering at the Orangey coloured dish. It appeared to have chunks of meat and vegetables in it, but the sauce was too paste-like for it to be a stew, and Historia could smell so many different spices and herbs wafting from it. No, it was definitely not a stew.
Deciding it would be best to leave the pair to revel in their shared passion for food, Historia turned to make her way back to her table. She looked over; Zackley was in deep conversation with Hange and Pixis, whilst Levi sat glaring in her direction, looking more than a little uncomfortable.
She thought about flashing him a small smile, but then remembered she was still annoyed with him for his unexplained advances in the carriage. Plus, she wasn't sure who'd be watching. She settled on what she hoped was an unaffected expression.
Levi didn't take his eyes off her. He sat, arms folded tightly, as Hange and Zackley droned on to his left, and stared.
She was the picture of radiant beauty, wrapped in sapphire with stars dusted through her light hair, sweeping around with Sasha on her arm. He marvelled at how well the corps dress uniform really did compliment her gown, before shaking the stupid thought away.
He scanned the groups of jovial people around her. All seemed fine. He wondered if she was aware of how many eyes were on her as she laughed and chatted with her old friend. That MP brat at her dress fitting hadn't been wrong; she really did have hordes of admirers. Levi bristled at the realisation of how many eyes belonged to men. He registered their greedy gazes, and his hands clenched against his biceps.
A Marleyan man heading towards the pair caught his attention; Levi was certain he recognised him as the chef from the port project. He slipped a hand inside his jacket, fingers creeping for the cool metal which pressed against his chest through his inner pocket, ready for any sign of trouble. But then the pair were chatting casually with him, seemingly at ease. His fingers fell away from his pistol, but he kept his eyes trained on the man.
Finally, Historia seemed to be heading back towards him. Good.
Her eyes met his as she made her way between the tables, and he noted the cool arch to her brows and the way her lips were carved into a straight, inexpressive line. They merely stared at one another for a long, weighted moment, before she turned her gaze away from him again, that signature glowing smile of hers vacant.
She was pissed.
He'd thought as much, from her clipped conversation beside him at the table. Well, could he blame her, really?
One minute he'd been telling her how she was the last fucking thing he wanted right now, then the next, he'd practically jumped her bones in the carriage.
She was probably more than a little confused.
Hell; so was he.
He was just wondering where the fuck his discipline had disappeared off to when he noticed the glass of wine still in her hand as she made her way towards him. He frowned.
Get shot of it, Historia.
They couldn't afford any more prying questions from Zackley and the others concerning Historia's avoidance of alcohol. Hange had considered a carefully constructed plan to make sure the pregnancy was public knowledge at the right moment. They needed to stick to it. He glared at her again, willing her to look back at him. Two rows away, her eyes returned to his. He shifted his gaze to the glass in her hand pointedly. She stalled, realisation dawning on her features.
Casting around beside her, she seemed at a loss. But then suddenly, a tall figure barged into her shoulder. The glass slipped from her fingers and shattered on the polished floor, the sound drawing the attention of those around the Queen. Levi's back stiffened as he sat taller, but then the figure turned, and he recognised the freckled face of George.
Fucking Farm Boy. Nice one, kid.
He made a show of apologising to Historia, who waved him off, all smiles, and bent to help him gather the sparkling glass fragments. Before long a server appeared, and took over the task of clearing the mess.
Levi watched as Historia squeezed George's shoulder affectionately, before nodding at his polite bow and returning on her path to their table.
Arriving beside Levi, Historia set down her plate of food which she'd miraculously saved from toppling to the floor along with her drink.
"Subtle," Levi stated quietly.
She wasn't sure if the remark was sarcastic or genuine.
"Thanks."
He looked sideways at her. "Your hand's bleeding."
The Queen looked down. There was indeed a crimson smear across her fingers.
"Oh ..." she inspected her hand, before locating a small cut on her index finger. "It's fine." Confirming there were no shards in the wound, she inserted the finger into her mouth. It stung a little as the metallic taste of blood prickled her tongue.
She was suddenly aware of Levi staring. She turned to meet his eyes, her finger still resting between soft lips as she sucked gently.
They gazed at one another. She registered the kink in his brows, his pupils blown and almost wild, mouth parted slightly as his breath escaped in little rushes. He turned his head away quickly, raven strands of hair escaping forward from where they had been styled and falling across his eyes. A pink tinge threatened just above his shirt collar.
She yanked the finger from between her lips and turned forwards, feeling a blush spread across her own cheeks.
Damn him.
This was torture.
He cleared his throat.
"I imagine your friend Farm Boy will want a dance at some point this evening?"
She kept her gaze averted from him. "I imagine he will."
She felt him fidget beside her, his fingers reaching for his cravat.
"Good, then."
"Yes," she stated evenly. "Good."
Walls, she wanted to hate him so much right now. She wanted to stay angry at him for having the gall to make her feel the things she had in the carriage, knowing full well they were going to have to sit through hours of this torture afterwards, unable to talk plainly, unable to lay a finger on one another. But how could she? How could she, when he was suddenly acting so awkwardly with her? Like some fumbling little school boy ... The stoic mask would slip for just a moment, and all her anger would melt away into nothing.
This damn man.
A pair of green eyes at the edge of their table drew her attention.
"Speak of the fucking devil," Levi muttered.
She ignored the Captain's clipped tone and flashed George a huge smile. "Well hello, again. Come back to knock my plate to the floor, have you? Just to finish the job?" She laughed at his awkward expression as he hovered across from her, his fingers tapping on the dark wood table absently.
"Er, sorry, His – I mean, Your Majesty. I-"
"Oh George," she cut across him. "Shut up. Stop calling me that – you know me better. And I was just pulling your leg! I know it was an accident."
He blushed.
"You look very handsome in your dress suit." His blush deepened, and she found she couldn't suppress a surge of warmth towards the sweet man. "Are you having a nice evening?"
He nodded. "Wonderful. I've been sat chatting with Armin and Eren – they've been great. I was just wondering if I could, er, invite you for a dance? Just to apologise for before." His eyes fell to her untouched plate of food. "Once you've finished eating, of course!"
Historia followed his gaze to her food. Suddenly, the idea of dancing seemed so much more appealing than the colourful food on her plate.
"I can eat after." She rose, shaking the folds out of her dress.
Beside her, Levi also stood.
She turned to him, head cocked. "You're coming?"
He stared at her coolly. " I can't see the dance floor as well as the banquet area from here. I'll just be at the edge of the floor, keeping an eye."
For some reason, she felt as though that really wasn't the only reason he was tagging along. But she shrugged her shoulders none the less, hurrying around the table to take George's hand. She didn't miss the eyes of several of the occupants of their table follow her and her freckled companion curiously as they made their way to the dance floor. Levi slunk along behind, looking utterly indifferent.
She suddenly found herself wondering if the Captain was a good dancer. Surely he must be – he appeared to excel at anything physical. She secretly hoped he was at least a little jealous at the prospect of her dancing with George, as childish as it might be.
George leaned in close to her as they made their way past the smiling and bowing guests, all seemingly delighted to catch a glimpse of the Queen.
"Was that OK? Asking you to dance?"
She grinned at him. "Perfect."
He nodded. "Ok. Good. Thing is, though ..."
She frowned at the hesitation on his face. "Don't you really want to?"
He paused, facing Historia as they reached the edge of the dance floor. The current song drifted to an end, and the Orchestra shuffled on stage in preparation for the next number.
"The thing is. Back home … we don't really get much chance to dance, do we?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm not very good, His."
She shook her head at that, smiling. He really was sweet. "It's fine, George. It's not that hard, honestly! I never really danced before I became Queen, either! Didn't really have much cause. But you pick it up really quickly."
"You did, maybe. But I'm awful!"
"Nonsense!" She snatched up his hand again, and pulled him out on to the floor. How bad could he be, really?
He was awful, actually.
He kept tripping over the hem of her dress as they circled to the slow rhythm of the music, and it was knocking her out of step.
"George," she whispered against his ear, "try to watch out for my dress."
His hands trembled against her waist. "Sorry, His. I'm trying."
She was aware of the crowd that was gathering around the dance floor, drawn in like transfixed little moths to a flame. The sight of the beautiful Queen dancing with the handsome young stranger was sending a contagious excitement vibrating between the finely dressed guests.
Their plan was working.
She just wished it was working a little more gracefully.
He stumbled again, and they tilted their heads forward in unison to look at their feet. Their foreheads bounced off one another with a small thud.
"Ouch," Historia mumbled. She squinted at her companion, who was again blushing profusely.
"Sorry."
The image of his distraught face, the fumbling of his fingers at her waist, and the stunning shade of red he was turning for some reason sent laughter bubbling from her lips.
"What a pair we are!" She rested her head on his shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry. We'll give this lot something to talk about for the next thirty minutes, at least." she whispered.
He grinned at that. She felt good, knowing that she was beginning to put him at ease. Maybe it would help his balance.
He trod on her foot.
Maybe not, then.
They circled again, and she suddenly found herself face to face with Levi, a lurking shadow at the edge of the dance floor. His eyes were glued to her, dark and foreboding. Even at such a light-hearted gathering, he still managed to give off the impression of an approaching storm cloud, full of the threat of electricity. A complete opposite to the sunny disposition of the man with his arms around her currently. It was funny; though – ever since she was a little girl, the tremor of thunder and wild way the wind lashed at her face during a storm had captivated her far more than placid sunshine ever could.
She was supposed to be angry with him, still. But before she knew what she'd done, her mouth was turned up at the edges at the sight of the brooding Captain.
Damn him to hell, with his ridiculously attractive cloudy countenance.
He'd noticed, too. She saw the shift in his eyes as her small smile registered. But the subtle gesture between the Queen and her Captain went unnoticed by the crowds around them; the stoic features of the celebrated soldier ever imperceptible.
She envied him that; it had taken all she had to keep up her cool treatment of him during the carriage ride, and even then it hadn't been long until she began failing miserably. He'd reached out for her, and she'd fallen at the first hurdle.
How desperately she wanted to dance with him right now.
She imagined how graceful he would probably be; her eternal storm cloud drifting across the starry dance floor, enveloping her in the turbulent depths of his embrace.
That was it. She'd get him to dance with her, one way or another, before the night was out.
The song ended abruptly in her ears, and the fumbling feet of George came to a halt.
"Well … I mean, it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Apart from, er, tripping up, of course. And treading on your dress. And headbutting you."
He sucked in a deep breath as he stood back to look at her.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Historia. I hope I didn't completely embarrass you!"
He gave the most awkward bow she had ever received, squeezing his eyes shut as though the thought of what had just occurred was physically painful.
She laughed again, nudging his shoulder playfully to make him stand. "I had fun. You made me smile."
He rose then, beaming. "Oh! Uh, good!"
"Hey."
The pair turned to find Levi glaring at them, arms folded. "You staying for another demonstration in how not to dance, or are we heading back?" He looked sideways at the orchestra. "The next song is gonna start."
Historia had the urge to ask him to dance with her there and then, but a small voice at the back of her head told her that might be a bit too keen, not to mention, inappropriate. She nodded at George, smiling, and the pair strolled towards the stony faced Captain.
"I'd like to get some fresh air, please, Captain Levi. Would you mind stepping outside with me for a little stroll?"
He glared at her. She could see he thought 'fresh air' was a less than appealing idea, but how could he refuse her?
"Alright."
She turned to George. "Would you excuse me, George? I'll come and find you after."
The freckled farmer looked between the pair knowingly, his cheery smile fading a little. "Uh, sure."
It took Historia two steps out into the night air before an intense shiver ran down her spine. Why had she not thought to ask for a coat to match her dress? It was hardly the most appropriate attire for the declining fall temperatures.
It made her chest tingle when Levi noticed. He cleared his throat gruffly, before shrugging off the beautiful blue jacket decorated with the wings of freedom from his shoulders. He didn't say a word to her as he draped it across her back, his fingers brushing her collarbone and sending little pulses of static across her skin. She accepted it in silent gratitude, knowing that any protests would immediately be shot down by the Captain.
The pair strolled together through the brightly lit courtyard, Historia nodding and smiling at members of the public as they greeted her warmly with bows and curtsies. She'd never get used to this level of attention. She suddenly wished it was the cornfields outside of the Farmhouse that they were strolling through in the brusque, autumn evening.
She pulled Levi's jacket tighter around her shoulders, and felt her heart warm as the familiar scent of his soap hit her nose. There was something else there, too. Spices?
"Are you wearing cologne, tonight?" she asked, her eyes questioning as she looked up at him.
His fingers were at his cravat again. "Perhaps."
She looked back forwards, grinning to herself.
"What's that shit-eating grin for?" His voice was low so only she would hear.
"Oh, nothing. I've just never noticed you wear it before."
He huffed. "I don't. Shitty Four Eyes - it was a gift from her a few years ago, for my birthday. Supposed I should make use of it, before she started whining at me."
"Oh, so it was for Hange's sake."
He glanced at her. "Yeah. 'Course it was."
She gave him a wicked grin. "'Course it was."
He scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing. When's your birthday?"
"That's for me to know."
"And Hange."
"Yes, and fucking Hange. She found out by accident."
Historia tried not to laugh at the irritated wrinkle of his nose. She could only imagine the unwanted fuss Hange made each year. She was glad the Captain had someone to make him celebrate his birthday.
They reached a little path which wound through bright flowerbeds. The area was mostly deserted.
"You don't like a fuss, do you?"
He merely shrugged.
She steeled herself to ask the question she'd been thinking about since her dance with George.
"Hey – dance with me, won't you?" She hoped she sounded casual.
He stopped and looked at her. "What?"
"You heard what I said. Dance with me."
He shook his head. "I don't."
She wasn't letting him get out of it that easy. It was the least he owed her, after sticking his tongue down her throat unprovoked in the carriage.
"Just like you once told me you don't drink. And yet, just a couple of hours later, I find you sneaking into my quarters and helping yourself to my whiskey like an alcoholic."
"Fuck, Historia," he hissed, "keep your voice down!"
She arched a brow, casting around them where they stood together beneath a pagoda of vines. "There's no-one else here."
He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "It's not happening. It'll draw too much attention."
"It's just a polite dance with your Queen, Captain."
"Absolutely not."
"No funny business ..."
"No."
She folded her arms in mock defeat. "Oh, OK. If you're worried about your ability ..."
She noticed him clench his jaw out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't say I can't. I said I don't. I fucking hate it. But I know how to dance, dipshit."
They both stiffened at the way he addressed her. He'd never done that before; given her a playful nickname. She glanced at him questioningly, her lips curved into a small smile.
He humphed. "Forget it."
"Prove it, then."
"We should get back."
"So you can ask me to dance?"
She laughed properly then, revelling in the exasperation painted across his face at her insistence. This wonderful, terrible man; after all he'd done and all he'd been through. Didn't he deserve to just dance, for a moment?
She felt his gaze as though it were frost biting at her skin, and found herself shivering despite the warmth of his jacket wrapped tight around her shoulders. His hand reached for hers and he yanked her towards him roughly. She knew it wasn't safe here, even in the secluded part of the gardens they found themselves in, so he wouldn't touch her, or kiss her, no matter how much they both wanted it. But the feel of his palm locked so comfortably against hers was enough, for now. He turned to pull her towards the lights of the Grand Hall.
"Levi … earlier, in the carriage ..." she began.
"Not here." he replied bluntly, before starting forwards, not looking at her.
She nodded as she felt him release her fingers. He let her walk past him, and she did her best to clear her features of emotion.
But a quiet voice whispered somewhere near her ear as he fell into step behind her.
"Later."
They made their way back towards the throng of people in the courtyard, and for the first time in days, Historia felt a small hope rekindle in her belly. Her palm brushed over her abdomen briefly, before returning to her side.
Yes. Later.
A single pair of eyes beneath a hood watched the pair intently from the shrubbery.
"Fools."
The word was lost to the distant hum of the Banquet ringing in the night air.
Levi stalked after her into the bright lights of the hall. He had come far too close to putting his hands on her just now in the gardens.
Far too fucking close. Again.
But he'd meant what he said. Later – they would talk. And maybe he'd even tell her when his birthday was.
At least she didn't appear to be pissed at him any more. Although; he wasn't sure quite how he felt about that, because she really should be. Hell, he was pissed at himself.
They swept past the crowds gathered near the dance floor, and Levi felt his senses heighten again as he scanned for signs of threat against the Queen. All seemed O.K. He stared at the intricate patterns on the marble dance floor for a moment.
How long had it been since he'd danced last?
"Levi!"
The shrill voice struck him squarely. He groaned. He should have been scanning for signs of Commanders wearing shitty glasses, instead.
Historia paused in front of him so suddenly that he almost collided with her back. He looked past her at the sight of Hange marching towards them. She was closely followed by a rather serious looking Jean.
"Fuck sakes."
He'd done so well avoiding eye contact with her at the table; he'd known she could never call him out on anything in front of Zackly and the others. But now it looked like she was about to corner him. And why the fuck had she dragged Jean from his post?
"Hi, Commander Hange, is everything OK?" Historia was frowning at the pair, concern etched across her features.
"Of course, Your Majesty – wonderful dancing with George before, by the way – I just need a quick word with Captain Levi, if you could excuse him from his duty for just a few minutes?"
The Queen looked taken aback. Her eyes flitted between Commander and Captain.
"Oh. Erm ..."
"Hange." Levi folded his arms.
Was she fucking joking?
"I'm assigned as the Queen's personal guard – as you well know; you wrote the fucking plans. I cannot step aside from this for just a few minutes, no."
He glared at her, not giving a shit that he wasn't adhering to rank right now. He wasn't about to leave Historia unprotected just to answer Hange's shitty questions about what exactly had gone on between the pair of them before they rolled up at the banquet looking all out of sorts. He was frankly shocked that she'd even ask – it wasn't like her, at all.
Hange shook her head. "This can't wait, I'm afraid, Levi. But I agree, we can't leave Historia without a guard. That's why Jean's here."
Levi turned to his squad member. "And who the fuck is covering your position, then?"
Jean straightened at being addressed. "Mikasa, Captain. She's covering both hers and mine."
"... And I'm sure you'd agree, she's more than capable, Levi." Hange raised an eyebrow at him.
He grumbled. "Whatever. I just don't think what you want to talk to me about is appropriate right now." He looked at her pointedly, hoping she'd realise he was on to her.
"What?" She looked confused.
Sure, nice try, Shitty Glasses.
He folded his arms, rolling his eyes. Obviously he wasn't going to say it out loud in front of Jean.
"Levi - it's Eren."
Eren?
His eyes widened at the Commander. Jean and Historia exchanged uneasy glances beside him.
"What the fuck has Jaeger done now?"
Just to set expectations, the events centered around the Banquet will probably last for a couple more chapters. Let me know what you think is going to happen! I love to see if my readers know where things are headed ;) Like I've said before, I have a very big overarching plot plan for this story (but I do sometimes make minor tweaks along the way) so every detail is in each chapter for a reason and will be revisited and tied up before the end of the story! Shout outs to anyone who makes some accurate predictions in the next few installments! Much love, SR x
