Second Day of the Sixth Month, Jahr Unseres Gründers c.854
Lepzen, Fitche Territory, Continental Marley
She wasn't sure how it had come to be, but Historia craved battle.
Well… maybe crave wasn't the right word for it. No…
Historia felt as if it was her duty to do battle. To lead her armies to victory. To bear the Nine-Pointed Star's banner against the enemies of her people, at least, and oh, how her enemies were great in number. Maybe it was because she had spent so much time around her husband (who himself was a rather violent person, when you got him riled up. Then again, so was she, Historia supposed), having subconsciously imprinted on herself his mentality to free their people from slavery. Maybe it was because she disliked having all the power she had and simply not using it, like her predecessors had when it came to the Founder.
Like Freida.
Or maybe it was because, deep down, she did crave it- the roar of canon-fire, the footsteps of Titans, the fountains of blood splattered beneath her feet.
(That last thought was slightly worrying.)
As if answering her inner monologue, an artillery shell impact her forearm, and as useless as that weapon was against her, the Queen-Founder lunged forward with a snarl, fist smashing down on the roof holding the canon, and its gunners, eviscerating it all in one go. The artillery Marley could bear against her at the moment could do her no harm unless they managed to take her in the eyes, but they could still do substantial damage to the average Eldian.
She could heal bodies just fine, but not if the souls within had already departed.
Ah well, Historia thought to herself, shaking the blood off her hand and plunging deeper into the enemy city, I can wonder about my blood-lust after the battle. Assuming I have the time to do that, anyway.
Ever since Operation Rückeroberung had began, the Queen-Founder and the forces under her command had fallen into routine when it came to taking cities; she would be the first to enter the fray, using her divine will to remove every Eldian from any possible harm that could befall them. Then the rest of the Vermessungskorp would follow, weapons blazing as they gunned down the opposition- all the while, Historia herself would make a beeline for wherever the city garrison's commander may be to force his or her capitulation.
Or, if that didn't work, she obtained the surrender from said kommandant's immediate successor.
Then they would secure the city proper, 'conscript' the Eldians of the city's militia to defend it and maintain it in their absence, and depart for the next one. It still somewhat bothered her that she had to use the Coordinate to order them to do so, but they simply could not afford to leave more than a dozen of her own soldiers at every city. They were already outnumbered ten-to-one as it was, and the Queen-Founder couldn't be everywhere at one. Erwin would need those soldiers when she eventually had to split the army in two.
In the near-month it had been since the fleet had set sail from Paradis, they had taken four cities their 'routine' (devised at an impromptu war council after they'd taken Liberio, seeing as the strategy had worked so well there), slowly cutting their way west, and Lepzen would soon be joining the list of retaken cities. With the majority of Marley's military might having been occupied with the Mid-East Alliance, many of the cities they were capturing were mildly undermanned- even more so when Historia removed the Mainlander Eldians from the field.
And then there was the matter of casualties.
So far (assuming the retrieval of Eren went off without a hitch), Eldia had taken none.
It was doing wonders for the army's morale, to the point where soldier seemed to come out of battle better than they had before, all ailments that might've cropped up from the march there alleviated, and though she personally very much enjoyed using the power of the Nine she had at her disposal to the benefit of her people, Historia was milking the Coordinate for all it's PR uses, and it was… tiring, honestly. A not-so insignificant portion of liberated Eldians in the cities left behind seemed to have taken her arrival as that of a divine savior, to the point that several Ymir-cults had already begun to resurface from their near-extinction as the elderly began to preach one more, recalling days long past. The thought of her liberated subjects brought a growl to the Titan's moth, even as she lunged forward yet again to silence yet another artillery battery.
With every city they took, she only grew angrier. The further inland her armies pushed, the more pristine the coastal Internment Zones seemed in comparison to the ones in Marley's hinterland. Apparently, it was a common sight to find the corpses dead of malnourishment down certain alleyways, or to find men and women laying in gutters, having been abused in various ways by the Marleyans.
An image of her husband's aunt flashed through Historia's head for a moment, and the rubble beneath her hands suddenly turned to dust, ground to powder beneath the Founding Titan's clenched fists.
Gott, if she ever found out where the Tyburs were hiding their traitorous asses, she would-
"Your Grace!"
Training-instilled reflexes almost caused her to swat one of her officers out of the sky, and said training-instilled reflexes stopped her before she even began, and Historia held back a sigh, slowly bringing herself down from her battle-rage.
...Gott, I want my husband.
Two years without toughing him in person was two years too long, evidently enough.
Historia really, really missed Eren's hugs. And kisses. And everything else. She didn't get those these days, and she yearned for them.
Ruling a hermit-nation alone was lonely work.
The officer, a leutnant by the name of Mitchell, if she recalled correctly, landed on her shoulder, dipping his head in reverence. "The commander of Lepzen's garrison has surrendered," the man informed her. "He seeks terms, Your Majesty."
At that, the Queen-Founder nodded. It wouldn't be the first time a city had surrendered to her in the hopes of dictating favorable terms from her, no doubt afraid that her soldiers would retaliate every injustice paid to their Mainlander brothers and sisters tenfold. It had been a notion discussed heavily at the war-councils back home- simply put, sacking a city was no longer something that would be seen as just a regular act of war, having gone out of style after Udynel fell, if their information was correct. There had been several high-ranking officials that had wished to sack every Marleyan city from the Indische Ocean to the Meiriceás in retaliation for the treatment of their people.
Both she and Eren had been heavily against it at the time, but now that she had seen for herself what her husband had reported…
Well, Historia would be lying if she said she wasn't slightly tempted to go ahead with it.
Breathe, Hisu. In, out.
Shaking away the dark thoughts, Historia turned to follow her soldier, the Founding Titan's footsteps thudding loudly as she did so, even more so now that the fighting had began to peter out. The Marleyan garrison's headquarters was surrounded by Eldians, watching from the roofs with weapons aimed, though all of them seemed slightly relaxed. Outside the gates of said headquarters stood a party of several Marleyans- five with the typical mid-ranking uniforms of Marley's Große Armee, and one wearing a golden pin molded in the shape of an eagle resting upon a seashell, distinguishing him as a Baron.
Historia's fists clenched. Which means he's the one responsible for the management of the Internet Zone here.
She wanted to crush him flat. Eviscerate him. Squish him into pink paste, a bloody pile of flesh and bone, and toss him to the Titans to deal with. If the man hadn't been a Baron, and therefore, of mild importance to the Marleyan government, she would have done so.
But, alas. Historia had been ruling the Walls long enough that she had learned to rule her emotions, and in this, logic superseded rage.
Another day, maybe.
Despite having decided to not kill the Baron (for the nonce, at leat), Historia relished the fear that shot through their eyes as she finally reached them and crouched, just as she savored the way the eyes of his compatriots widened when one of her legionnaires, whose name she did not know, decided to play herald.
(This wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was kind of amusing, she'd admit.)
"Hark, Marleyans!" the Eldian proclaimed. "Hail to Her Most August Majesty, Historia of House Reiss! The Third of Her Name, King of the Walls, Queen-Founder of Eldia, Lord of All Erde and Subject of Ymir!"
Then came the cheering that usually accompanied such a proclamation, and Historia hid a exasperated grin, refraining from rolling her eyes. The titles were still not something she was truly comfortable with, but they were growing on her, Historia would admit.
"So," she started, and the Marleyans before her flinched at her decidedly-cold voice, "I was told you seek terms."
Silence.
When the silence kept persisting, it became clear that none of the stricken Marleyans had any intention of responding, apparently due to her appearance (which wasn't in of itself an oddity- this had happened in the last few cities they had retaken,) Historia growled with suppressed irritation. She was tired, she was hungry, the heat of her nape was growing unbearable, and she wanted to check that the retrieval mission for Eren had gone as planned, because all she wanted at this point was to hear his voice in realtime.
Simply put, she didn't have time for this scheiße.
The Queen-Founder's gaze narrowed the Baron, who flinched at it. "I have other things I need to do, so you can either stop wasting our precious time stalling for a relief force that will never come, or I'll get the city's surrender from your heir."
Let him take that as he will.
The Baron paled at that, visibly swallowing, but to Historia's surprise, drew himself up. "Of- of course," he spoke hastily, an undercurrent of embarrassed anger and rising fear simmering in his throat. "I, Enrich of the noble House Himmel, Baron of Lepzen and Lord of Fitche... do hereby surrender." The last word was ground out, almost unintelligible, but Historia's Titan ears were better than the Marleyan thought. It mattered little, regardless. "I yield the city to you, Eldian."
Historia nodded at the admission. "And your terms, Himmel?"
The man turned his head slightly, and one of the Marleyans with the Baron took several steps forward, a letter in hand, holding it out towards her, keeping as far away from the Eldians as physically possible. Historia did not take it, however, as her Feldmarschall swooped down from the buildings and took it for himself, reading it for a few moments before nodding minutely. "The terms are acceptable, Your Majesty," Erwin spoke, and Historia nodded before turning back to the Marleyans. She would trust the words of her Feldmarschall.
"...We accept your terms," the Reiss announced, standing tall from her crouch, voice brooking no arguments. "Lepzen's citizens will not be harmed, and the city will not be sacked. The garrison will be disarmed immediately, and until the war's end, the Himmel family will remain under house arrest." She grinned, then, something fierce yet false at the same time, and returned her gaze to the Marleyans below her.
"Welcome back into the fold. I'm sure your city will become a shining example to the rest of Marley."
Whether that 'shining example' was brought willingly... well.
That's another matter all together.
Then, having done that, she turned away, letting her commanders take care of the rest, for she had no will to. Every bone in her body wanted her to collapse on a mattress and fall asleep the instant she did so, but there were meetings to attend, walls to tear down, people to raise from poverty, and another conquered city to garrison.
...There were moments that Historia wished she'd had stayed on that farm.
But…
Frieda entrusted this power to me. People died so the curse could be broken. If I had all this power, and chose to stay on that farm…
Historia was, at heart, a selfish person, she would (and had, to several trusted individuals) admit, but she did her best to channel that selfishness into the welfare of her people. To her, the people of Eldia deserved the best, and Historia had the power to bring that "best" to them.
Freedom.
Are we there, then? Historia pondered. Have we brought our people from slavery? Are we close? Are they free?
The answer was an instant one, an answer that the Founder had long-known, and still did.
No.
Not yet.
Then she strode towards one of the buildings they had chosen as their own headquarters within the city, back straight, nerves steeled.
Rest could wait for just a bit longer. They still had a long way to go before they reached that scenery.
Historia had promised to build a world where her children could be free, and she damn well meant to keep it.
A/N: Yeah, done. Woop. I apologize for this taking so long.
This chapter was supposed to include Rita and Mathias receiving intelligence on where the Marleyan navy is and talking, but... no. That debacle is getting a whole chapter unto itself, because I don't think I'd do it justice otherwise. Which means next chapter is the first naval engagement of the war, hurrah!
Then maybe a bit on Hizuru and whatever's going on over there, a EriHisu reunion, and even better- international politics! Because the rest of the world isn't going to just take Eldia's resurgence lying down...
I'm really looking forward to that last one.
Well, I'm going to go try and work on my other 20-odd works I need to update. Until next time, gentlefolk.