April
Hannah and Julia were leaning against the office door, smirking.
"A little birdie told me that Bert is joining your team at the tavern quiz tonight Petra…" Hannah's voice teased smoothly, and she ran a dust rag through her hands.
"Since when did you allow 'outsiders' on your elite Special Ops team?" Jules asked archly.
It didn't matter how little she saw her two best friends from her ex-squad, they always fell back into their old dynamic.
"Will you help me sort this out instead of just standing there?" Petra huffed in response.
"Sure dude. Just as soon as you dish." Jules said, teasing her hand through her dark brown curls semi-distractedly.
"It's nothing." Petra said firmly, eyes hard towards the mismatched pair, who chortled.
"I mean it." She stated with more force, "His squad wanted to split up for the quiz because only two of them could make it, so I offered. It's nothing more than common courtesy."
"Ooooh." Hannah laughed.
"Plus he's good friends with Eld, so it made sense. Now come on."
She fired them a wrathful look and they jumped, scrambling to help her rearrange and neaten up the Captain's office.
All of the higher-ups in the regiment had been called away for eight days to Mitras for the annual meeting of all the Military branches, and Petra had been tasked by Commander Erwin himself to complete the Captain's paperwork over the course of that time, expressing that as someone who had assisted the man in that area she was much better suited to the role than Eld. Not only that, but it freed up some of Eld's time as second to plan the week's worth of drills, something that he needed the practice at if he ever wanted to be promoted…though Petra wasn't sure he ever wanted to be promoted; the squad in its current form had an indescribable flow, and they each were sinking ever deeper into the comfort of their positions - none more so than Eld.
Needless to say, the Captain was going to be back tomorrow, and Petra, though she gave her best effort, had unintentionally managed to completely re-organise the drawers and cabinets of his office…
It'd become clear to her that during the month or so she'd spent helping him, he'd very much given her the easiest documents to work through, and she'd spent the past week tirelessly running from drills to band practice, and then spending far too long each evening writing up paperwork and filling in documents that she was only half-sure she understood. In her exhaustion she'd been replacing items to random drawers, sometimes not clearing anything away before returning to the barracks, and on Thursday night she'd accidentally fallen asleep at the office desk and woken up with a page of writing stuck to her face.
The result was that the place now, though not a complete pigsty, was significantly messier than usual - far too unkempt for the Captain's standards, and she'd roped in Hannah and Jules in a last ditch effort to help her try and put everything back where it was (as far as she could remember), and dust every inch of the space until it was returned to its usual uptight spotlessness.
"Um baby girl?" Hannah asked dubiously, holding up four long candles tied together by their wicks, "Are these supposed to be in the filing cabinet? They were in a folder marked 'equipment maintenance logs'."
Jules laughed, "And this desk drawer is just filled with scrunched up balls of paper."
Petra bit her lip, "I uh - started using that drawer as the paper bin because it was quicker than getting up to use the actual bin…"
Hannah raised her eyebrows, "And the candles?"
She sighed, "Oh. Look in the cupboard next to the filing cabinet."
Hannah did as Petra said, opening a cupboard next to the cabinet and smiled when she saw the neatly stacked bundles of spare candles, all tied into fours, "At least you tied them right…"
Petra tittered, standing on a chair to dust above one of the bookcases,
"Honestly, I wonder how the higher ranking officers can get all their paperwork done. It was a nightmare this past week. I ended up skipping band on Friday because I just couldn't hack doing it all."
Jules had moved the bin over to the desk and was decanting the balled up paper from the drawer into it. She spoke playfully,
"There was a time, wasn't there - before the Huberts' of the world appeared - where you were assisting the Captain with his…paperwork…isn't that right Petra?" She smiled smugly.
"Oh yeah…" Hannah snorted a laugh, "I almost forgot…"
Petra scowled at them. She'd been a hundred percent certain that this topic would come up when she'd asked them for help tidying his office, but had hoped she was wrong.
"He didn't need my help anymore. Anyway, I was only doing it because I lost that stupid arm wrestle you dared me to do."
"Sure you were." Jules said pointedly, throwing a ball of paper into the bin for extra emphasis.
"And I don't appreciate your implication." Petra said emphatically, "We were just doing paperwork. Really. It was…boring."
That was a lie - it was fascinating, in a 'silently tense' kind of a way. Her favourite part of the week. But they didn't need to know that.
"Doing paperwork…or doing 'it' on the paperwork…" Hannah chuckled quietly, then froze in alarm as a book flew not centimetres past her head, and she turned to see Petra glaring from where she was stood on the chair, hands on her hips.
"Don't make me come down there!" She snapped.
"Is that what you used to say to him?" Hannah retorted.
"For the love of the WALLS Hannah!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry to offend you Miss Humanity's Strongest!" Hannah did a mock courtesy.
"That's Mrs Humanity's Strongest to you." Jules cackled.
Petra flung two more books at them, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you two for help!"
They squealed, giggling and began doing their jobs at hyper speed. Petra shook her head and returned to dusting above the bookcase.
"At this rate Oruo would have been a better assistant." She muttered under her breath.
She'd pondered now and again if the Captain had ever considered asking her why she stopped helping him with his paperwork. He'd definitely noticed it, the longer she was on his squad the more she realised there wasn't a single minute detail about anything that he missed, and her not showing up anymore (small as she was) wasn't exactly a minute detail. He was quiet, hard-edged, and unfazed, but he was always attentively watching everything, absorbing every nuance of his surroundings - in the same way that he'd pinpoint every speck of dust in a room in seconds. It made the fact that he'd walked away from her at the Trost Winter Parade all the more heartbreaking. She was now certain that in that moment, he'd read her entirely, and yet, he'd had nothing to say.
She tried not to think about that too much. And she'd kept her promise to herself to keep an eye on him for his wellbeing, but she'd decided it was best to do so at an arm's length; it was important that she protected herself, cut back the blossoms of her own affection so she didn't eternally sink into the sadness of continual unreturned feelings. He was a work of art, and she had to make sure she was stood behind the red ropes with everyone else, not ogling the brushwork up close as she'd be wont to do previously.
"Thinking about what? Inviting Rose? Does Clara know?"
Hearing Hannah's questions pricked Petra's ears, "Huh?" She turned back to face them, "Who is Rose?"
Jules's cheeks took on a rosy glow and her dark eyes shone shyly.
"Rose is Jules's new squeeze." Hannah said, raising her brows cheekily.
"She's a mechanic that works on ODM gear upgrades." Jules said, twiddling her thumbs.
Petra beamed, "You kept that one quiet!"
"It's a new…thing I suppose." The brunette mumbled, "A bit like you and Bert."
Petra pressed her lips together, "For the last time! That isn't a thing!"
"Did you tell him that? You might want to…"
Another book sailed past Jules's head.
Levi's sleep patterns in Mitras had been worse than normal, in fact he was sure his regular headache had begun the moment his horse trotted through the gate into Sina, and hadn't let up until they left.
As always, the city was dripping in ludicrous extravagance, and he'd never been so angry to set his eyes on such clean surroundings. No stone or statue was unpolished, no rose-bed unpruned, no shopfront unpainted.
That kind of cleanliness represented something menacing, it was a symbol of opulent, malicious self-importance. That kind of cleanliness wasn't about basic hygiene, but instead was rife with judgement for anyone poor: it shone into their grubby faces both in flat rejection of them as human beings, and also as a beacon of 'greatness' - that specific brand of unattainable greatness reserved only for those lucky enough to be born rich. That specific brand of greatness, in other words, that meant you could afford to build statues of your own asshole family and invent meaningless accolades to celebrate the achievement of absolutely shit all. It almost made him want to spit onto the perfectly buffed marble.
So today he was relieved to be returning to the meagre, dusty reality of the barracks. To the place that most closely resembled a home for him.
They'd made good time on their return, arriving just after lunchtime on Sunday to a compound cheerfully brimming with the relaxed atmosphere of new springtime.
On his return to the barracks he stopped at a curious sight: his squad on the green out the front of the building, Eld and Gunther were shovelling mud and Petra was beaming, a small sapling sort-of cuddled in her arms and leant across her shoulder. Behind her, that shitty, tall nuisance of a scout held a wheelbarrow.
"It's a Rowan tree."
Levi blinked once in silent alarm on hearing the glum voice sound behind him, holding back his surprise when he turned around to see Oruo sitting up against a wall, sadly picking the petals off of a daisy. He stared at the man, reading how the tired lines had etched ever deeper into his face. He looked distraught.
After a moment, he walked over, and slowly sat down, the pair looking towards the distant, smiling squad (and unwelcome guest) as they placed the sapling into the earth.
Oruo didn't acknowledge that Levi had sat by him, he simply continued to sullenly pull at the petals of the poor flower, eviscerating it.
"She said she wanted to plant it because it's known in her village as 'the tree of life'." He muttered, "Apparently it represents wisdom or protection or something ridiculous."
"You look tired." Levi said lowly, not taking his eyes from the new sapling and its haphazard gardeners.
"Mm." Oruo grunted.
Strangely, Levi found he had no urge to chastise the man for continually forgetting his honorific. He glanced over to Oruo and the now empty green stalk he twiddled between his thumbs.
The birds twittered sweetly and a light breeze disturbed the blades of grass, daisies and buttercups that were nestled within it.
"Sometimes people leave you." He said. "There's nothing you can do about that. In the end, it's their choice." He stood up, "All you can do is move on best way you know how, but…" He watched as the soldiers in the distance finished shovelling mud around the base of the tree;
"You'd be wise to remember what they taught you about yourself."
He walked away and Oruo watched after him, lip wobbling a little before returning his gaze to his empty stalk.
One of the new decisions implemented at the Mitras Military meeting was a request from Keith Shadis, the head instructor for the southern division of the cadet corps.
His idea was that each of the three military regiments take a batch of first-year cadets for a week to be coached by that branch's veteran soldiers. This meant that the first years would get a crash course of the most important skills required for that regiment, and a general taste of what it was like to work for them. Hopefully then the cadets would continue in the cadet corps with a more fully-formed idea of which regiment they were aiming for at the end of their three years, and could work the on specific skills with that destination in mind.
The week's coaching would consist of five days one to one tuition with a veteran soldier, observed by an instructor from the local cadet corps who would grade the batches of trainees at the end of each day, followed by a sixth day of written work and overview lectures of what they'd learned.
Obviously Commander Erwin had jumped at this opportunity - the earlier they got in to charm the cadets and 'sell' the survey corps to them, the more new recruits they'd potentially have by the end of their three years training, and they needed every new recruit they could get. With this in mind, they volunteered to trial the programme immediately.
The result being, naturally (as the Special Ops squad were finding was a real habit of theirs), a brand new competition.
Steam practically spewed from the Captain's ears when Eld wiped the board games leaderboard clean, and in place of their draughts championship, had chalked up the four names of the cadets that the squad'd been assigned to coach for the week. The coach with the highest-scoring trainee from the week's assessments won free drinks from the other members for a month, plus bragging rights. When Eld asked the Captain how he felt about the whole thing, he simply scowled, and gave a tired "Tch."
—
Rookie Scoreboard
Day : 0
3pts for highest grade
2pts for 2nd
1pt for 3rd
0pts for last place
Emmett 0
Patricia 0
Marta 0
Wilhelm 0
—
Eld couldn't wait to be victorious.
It was day one, and he was smirking from where he was stood watching Oruo's equipment demonstration for the four scrawny new recruits. Oruo had insisted that he be the one give the initial speech before they split off for one-to one training because he was:
"easily the most qualified and influential soldier of the squad" - he'd then elaborated;
"With my unmatched solo kill count, I'm in the best position to mould and inspire those fresh minds. Mine should be the first face they see as they-bleurghh!"
And so, the games had already begun.
"First things first. What's this?" Oruo spoke haughtily, removing a blade from his blade box and holding it up so it shone in the morning light through the equipment shed's small, high strip of windows.
Eld raised his hand,
"A blade." He said flatly.
"Not - you-" Oruo huffed, already a little flustered, "Yes, clearly it's a blade you blockhead, I meant what kind of blade is this?"
"That's not what you asked."
"Yes it is." Oruo said, a vein moving in his temple.
"No, you said, 'what's this.'" Eld said, repeating Oruo's earlier intonation.
The cadets began to titter and Eld could see that Petra was biting her lip in an attempt to remain professional. Gunther looked less than amused.
"Well I meant what type of blade is this." Oruo bit back, "Anyone? Well not anyone - not you Eld."
Eld put a hand to his chin, "Hmmm. No, I dunno." He replied, smirking. The cadets were outwardly giggling now.
"I said not you!" Oruo raged, "And how can you be second in command if you don't even know what kind of-" He stopped, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, a finger and thumb pressing into the bridge of his nose.
"It's a segmented flesh-paring blade made from the highest quality ultra hard steel. It has low density, meaning it can break easily if it comes into contact with something too hard, but it's lightweight and perfect for use against the titans when two are used together." Gunther said evenly, "Now, please get on with it."
—
Patricia was the name of Petra's cadet. She had huge, round dark brown eyes, a bob of light, mousey hair and she was tiny. Petra had a moment of wondering whether or not they'd been paired because…well…she looked like a younger, less ginger, more freckled version of herself.
If they had been deliberately paired for that reason then it was working, because Petra was determined to show this tiny girl that she could be the best soldier there was.
She grabbed the bewildered soldier's shoulders and stared intensely into her wide young eyes,
"Now Pat- Patricia, I need you to listen to me. …it is Patricia isn't it?"
The now-alarmed cadet blinked and nodded weakly.
"Good. I need you to know that it doesn't matter what they say about you, how weak they think you are, it doesn't matter if you're smaller than them and it certainly doesn't matter that you're a woman. You will be the best, you hear me? You will show them what you're made of. By the end of this week you'll be able to whoop the butt of every single one of those smug asshats and prove to them, and to me, that you are the best."
Her voice took on a frightening fervour as she chanted the following like a mantra;
"Because Rals don't quit. Rals don't give up or get distracted. Rals win. No excuses. Got it?!"
There was an awkward pause, then Patricia coughed lightly and brought a hand to scratch her head,
"Uh…thank you? But I um…really had my heart set on joining the Garrison Regiment, I just need a decent score to pass the-"
"Dammit Pat! Can I call you Pat?"
The girl shrugged.
"You're gonna make me look like a damn screw up if you don't get on board with this right now. Don't make me feel like I'm wasting my time because-"
—
Holy hell. It had only been five minutes and already Petra was laying the fuck in to her cadet in a manner that could only be described as absolutely terrifying. Eld smiled, noting how at odd moments she sounded remarkably like the Captain on one of his bad days.
"Um…sir?" Emmett (Eld's assigned cadet) raised his hand, which Eld found hilarious because each pair were stood separately, "Shouldn't you be yelling at me like that?" He pointed over to Petra and Patricia.
"Huh? Ah no - just ignore them. Although…" He brought a hand to his chin, "I'll level with ya kid. I've got quite a bit riding on you doing well so you gotta knuckle down these next few days - Ok?"
Emmett nodded firmly and saluted diligently, "Sir yes sir!"
"Nice. High-five."
Emmett wasted no time in following that command.
"And," Eld continued, "No more calling me sir. From now on, you must only refer to me as 'The Great Lion of Wisdom', and you will be known as 'The Young Newt of Understanding.'"
"Yes si- I mean - Yes Oh Great Lion of Wisdom!"
Eld gave a pleased nod, this kid and him were gonna be good friends.
—
Rookie Scoreboard
Day : 1
3pts for highest grade
2pts for 2nd
1pt for 3rd
0pts for last place
Newt of Understanding 2
Patricia 1
Marta 3
Wilhelm 0
—
It was day two and Gunther huffed on the morning run through the woods. They were currently last. His cadet, a particularly scrawny blonde kid named Wilhelm was really lagging behind. It was something Gunther couldn't relate to, he'd always found physical training exercises fairly easy, and he'd excelled in almost every area when he'd been in the training corps.
"Hey, cadet." He stopped, waiting for the poor sod to catch up, his overstuffed, weighted backpack wobbling precariously from side to side, in danger of causing the kid to fully topple over.
"Yes sir." The kid coughed and spluttered when he came to rest, his hands on his knees and sweat running off him in streams.
"You…" Gunther began, but the more he looked at the kid; limp blonde fringe plastered to his forehead, the fear in his green eyes, the more his expression softened, and he found his about-to-be aggressive encouragement died on his tongue. Briefly he remembered Petra's trial with the squad, how sickly and exhausted she'd looked on her first ever ten lap sprint, blood pouring from her nose.
"Don't push yourself too hard. It's only the second day. We'll build up to it." He said eventually, complete in the knowledge that he was about to lose the squad's ridiculous new competition. Ah well. Some things were more important.
—
Rookie Scoreboard
Day : 2
3pts for highest grade
2pts for 2nd
1pt for 3rd
0pts for last place
Newt of Understanding 5
Patricia 3
Marta 3
Wilhelm 1
—
Oruo was glad for the new cadet training programme. The past three days coaching had been jam-packed from dawn til dusk - great for taking his mind off Lina's brutal dumping.
Oruo didn't get dumped. He was the dumper, not the dumpee.
It wasn't like he was all that sad about it or anything. Life went on.
But…
A rug had been ripped from under him, and much as he would say he was carrying on as though nothing had happened, he was feeling intermittently displaced, as though from time to time he was different person wearing a mask of his own face. And he liked his face. There was no logical reason to cover it up.
"We want different things." She'd said, "Our lives just don't line up, and neither do our priorities."
Pfft. Why? Because he wanted to help improve the world and she wanted to lay about on her ass playing pissing darts-
He sighed.
"You aren't a hero Oruo."
She was fucking wrong.
His cadet, Marta, was unusual for a greenhorn. The best of a poor crop yes - and she was more of a hard-ass than Oruo was expecting - but her form was sloppy, and she was being much much too reckless when she executed diving manoeuvres through the trees. Perhaps he was pushing her too hard, after all, she was still just a rookie.
He spoke in his usual lazy way, "When you get out there, you need to really pay attention to your surroundings. Don't get bull-headed now. I've seen it happen over and over again beyond the wall. Remember, you'll be working as part of a team, you don't always have to throw yourself head-first into every situation."
Some trees away he heard Eld scoff, "Oruo, are you for real?! That's literally your biggest problem-"
"Might I make a friendly suggestion, Jinn?" He called out, "Focus on your damn self."
Eld shook his head in disbelief and returned to instructing his cadet.
"Try that hook again Marta. Watch your aim."
Marta lined up her shot, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration, one dark brown eye squinting to help her focus.
"Ready?" Oruo barked, "Fire!"
As he gave the command however, a large crow screeched and took flight from right behind the pair of them and they jumped, Marta haphazardly firing her right hook in a random direction, which jolted her from the branch and she ended up clinging to a nearby tree, a few leaves in her frizzy mass of black hair.
—
Petra was mid-explanation to Patricia which was literally about how to keep balanced between the trees, when she felt her right hook give way, and not a second later found herself dangling upside down like an angry bat, swinging slightly, her scowling face only a couple of metres from the bluebells of the forest floor.
Luckily, because they were training cadets, they were in the shortest section of the woods - the idea being that when falls inevitably happened cadets would probably only break a limb or something and were less likely to die plummeting.
"Sorry Miss."
It was Oruo's cadet, Marta, whose voice sounded in a flat tone. It seemed she had accidentally dislodged Petra's hook and now, in spite of her hard exterior, looked a tad shamefaced when she grumbled the apology. Patricia was giggling uncontrollably in the branches above too.
Miss? Oh she better hope Petra missed when she got up there and-
She was glaring with such intense venom towards Oruo and Marta that she didn't notice the shadow of a man approach her dangling upended frame, stepping through the blossoming bluebells and coming to stop less than a metre from her.
"Were you planning on hanging around all day?"
Petra nearly jumped out of her skin and let out a squeak upon hearing his gravelly voice.
"Careful now - don't piss yourself. That's hardly the the position for it."
There was a shade of a smirk on the Captain's lips as her eyes widened and she blinked dumbly at him a couple of times. She'd been so acutely focused on Patrica the past few days that she'd almost forgotten he was still in and out observing the squad for the week.
"C-captain…" She stuttered lamely.
With the faintest quirk of a brow, he turned and walked away through the lilac-blue flowers.
Great. There she was hoping that he'd somehow forgotten all about that stupid story. She'd been trying to erase her memory of that entire embarrassing evening - which had been proving easy enough now that Eld and Gunther weren't allowed to mention it - and she'd managed to convince herself it wouldn't ever come up again. So much for that. In a puff of smoke, she kissed goodbye to all her secret, steamy bedroom fantasies with the Captain, which now, in light of his comment became all the more unbelievable. Her dalliance with those kinds of thoughts now forever soiled by…herself. Jeez.
She was being too rash. Really, she knew that it didn't matter how much of an embarrassment she was, her heart would always find a way to delude her mind back into that quiet, impossible dream of them between the sheets…
Gosh she was such a hot mess.
—
Rookie Scoreboard ︎
Day : 3
3pts for highest grade
2pts for 2nd
1pt for 3rd
0pts for last place
Newt of Understanding 6
Lil 'P 3
Marta the Rageful 6
loser 3
—
Day four was teaching dummy assembly, which all four members of the squad had protested shouldn't be covered in the week's crash course because it wasn't part of the scout's 'essential' beyond-the-walls skills.
Captain Levi had torn them all down of course; firmly reminding the four of them that the cadets were supposed to be getting an idea of how the regiment functioned in its entirety, not just on an expedition, and that did they think that the rest of the month's work was less important than the days spent on riding out because every single duty you had to undertake as a scout contributed to your ability to survive beyond the wall, and if they couldn't see that then he wasn't sure why he bothered training them in the first place…
Needless to say that shut them up.
Eld scanned the lively workshop.
Wilhelm was hammering up a storm with an enviable focused precision and Gunther was watching him with fervent interest as the weedy blonde kid seemed to be, for the first real time in four days, nailing part of the coaching. Perhaps Wilhelm was more suited to engineering and research, even from the couple of seconds watching Eld could easily envisage him in a squad like Section Commander Hange's in a few year's time.
Marta worked diligently too, and Eld quirked a brow at Oruo's cocksure position, one hand gesturing wildly as he monologued about something, the other on his hip and one foot up on the workbench which was slightly too high for his leg. Eld momentarily considered shouting at him to see if he could make him lose his balance.
Then Petra…well, Eld and Petra seemed to have a shared problem of their own.
"Hey - Newt of Understanding." Eld grumbled, "I'm talking to you - Emmett."
Apparently their cadets were super horny for each other, which meant that Eld's initially great relationship with Emmett was quickly deteriorating as the kid had started increasingly chasing Patricia around saying all kinds of dorky shit in an attempt to make her laugh. Eld could only be half-mad of course, he saw a lot of himself at that age in the boy.
"Emmett."
The kid snorted at Patrica, who'd stuck out her tongue at him from the adjacent workbench in a teasing, childish manner.
"Stop your darn flirting and listen."
"Oh - sorry si- Lion of Wisdom."
"You've nailed this arm on backwards. See?"
"…uh…right."
"Listen kid, don't make me have to start calling you The Young Newt of Lust. It doesn't have the same ring to it."
From the next bench, Patricia giggled girlishly and Emmett smirked. Eld instantly stood into Emmett's eye line,
"I mean it." Then he lowered his tone, "You wanna know what really impresses the ladies…?"
Emmett nodded over-keenly.
"When you come back from beyond the wall with some titan-kills under your belt. Now get hammering, don't make me tell you again."
—
Petra caught Eld's eye and shook her head. Neither of them were ready to be parents and yet, here they were, like neighbours with teenage kids, wading through some smog of adolescent hormones desperately trying to pry the two apart. The concentration of both Patricia and Emmett had sharply declined over the past couple of days as they dallied around one another under the guise that no-one else could see their smiles and winks.
"Pat!" God she sounded exasperated, "Pat! For the love of the walls, Pay Attention!"
Petra'd basically given up at this point; the girl was clearly not interested in the scouts even one iota, as she was now doing some kind of sexy dance with a saw for Emmett's benefit.
"Is that meant to be enticing?" Petra snapped, "I've seen titans more appealing than that. Get it together!"
—
Idiot Scoreboard ︎
Day : 4
3pts for highest grade
2pts for 2nd
1pt for 3rd
0pts for last place
Newt of fucking lust 6
Lil Tease ︎ 4
Marta the Rageful 8
WINNER 6
eld sUckS ︎
fuck off oruo
—
By day five of the new training programme, the squad had seemed to finally realise the extreme limitations of their trainees as Levi suspected they might. He wasn't sure what they were expecting, the brats were only first years, barely out of their shitty nappies. Most of them could scarcely stay upright for more than ten minutes when using the ODM gear, and they certainly couldn't wield blades while doing it. He'd been forced to hear his squad excessively bitch and whine about it the past few evenings - so much so that he'd ended up spending the last two back in his office to escape.
He froze, flipping open a file of recent reports. On the top of the neatly stacked documents was a torn out page from a crossword book, with all the answers filled in except for one:
Credit on tax to obtain a dress accessory? (6 letters)
Where the clue overlapped with others it read:
_ _ A _ _ T
…hm.
There had been very little that denoted Petra's returned presence to his office when he'd been away in Mitras.
He'd spent more time than he'd care to admit to scouring the room for any evidence of her, after all, order and cleanliness of his personal spaces was of the utmost importance to him.
That was good enough excuse to momentarily delude himself with. Not that it wasn't true, just…
…
So far he'd found traces of her in some small, boring ways; the odd book that had been replaced on the shelf in a slightly different place, the sticks of wax specifically for sealing letters no longer ordered by colour…but none of these things was really worthy of a mention to her. He'd even gone so far as running how those conversations might go in his head, and felt like a dumbass.
He begrudgingly realised that what he was really looking for, what he actually wanted to find was a reason to chastise her, for the pair of them to somehow acknowledge her sudden absence from assisting him with his paperwork all those months ago. It was the child in him feeling abandoned once again, and it was pathetic that he still thought about it this much.
But here…a puzzle, likely from the very book he bought her last year, left in such a deliberate place that he would have to come across it one day soon. It was clearly intentional, why else tear the page out and leave a clue blank like that?
He stared at it for a long time, unsure how to feel.
At length he blew out the final candle and exited his office, returning to the quarters.
It was late, the sun almost completely set as he approached the building, the light from pale to dusky blue in a pleasing gradient across the early-evening sky, when he stopped beside the new sapling, pleased that it was shorter than him, and reached out a hand to its small, feathered leaves.
In the little time it had been planted there, it had already begun to blossom with delicate white blushes of flowers. He played with a leaf, feeling it between his fingers, admiring its shape and newness.
"Do you like it Captain?"
A sidewards glance brought her into view, burdened with a stack of firewood a metre or so away. She placed the logs on the ground and dusted off her hands, a hopeful smile lighting up her face.
"It's a Rowan Tree - the tree of life. It's a tradition in my village to plant them in spring for protection, courage and wisdom. I figured some members of our squad could do with a little wisdom now and then sir." Petra giggled, and the breeze softly stirred her bangs.
He could have stopped her, told her Oruo had already told him all this, but it had been so long since she'd spoken to him so freely, offering her numerous thoughts like so many spring flowers blooming all at once, and he found that he wanted to listen, even though there remained a quality of surface-level friendliness about her.
"Anyway, I hope you don't mind it sir. In autumn it produces red berries, which make a great jelly to use in a stew, plus they have some medicinal properties for sore throats so it's useful for that reason too."
She was babbling…and…selling the tree to him based off of its practicality? Perhaps she knew him better than he thought. He returned to examining the leaf, and didn't notice her approach him until she was beside him plucking her own leaf from the sapling, still chattering,
"The legend goes that the leaves are feathers from the wings of a bird owned by one of the goddesses, and the red berries are the drops of blood shed when the bird is injured searching the world as it gathers things for her. See how the leaves really look like tiny feathers? It makes me think of the wings of the scouts crest. I think it's beautiful."
She was always so thoughtful, so full of hope.
He took a deep breath and immediately felt off. She was stood right next to him and yet, rather than her usual scent of soft vanilla, there was a vaguely floral scent instead, rose, perhaps. His jaw tightened.
When he glanced over to her, though she hadn't picked up on his shift, she seemed uneasy, her eyes grazing the grass at their feet.
"I'm sorry sir, this probably isn't all that interesting and yet here I am blathering away to you after a tiring week." She shook her head silently, then returned to her bundle of firewood, and leant down to pick it up once more. Then she stood awkwardly facing him, once again bundled under the pile of tied together wood.
It quickly dawned on him how strongly his heart was beating, how his temper was rapidly building inside.
Why did she smell different? And who did he think he was, Mike?
"Cravat." He said with barely contained irritation, holding out the rumpled, torn out puzzle page towards her.
Her eyes lightened a touch above the top log of her pile of firewood;
"I know." She gave a small, infuriatingly polite smile, "I just thought you…I thought you'd like that clue. That's all sir."
That's all? Why bother going to that trouble if…
He fought to keep his rising anger inside, hoping she hadn't spotted his breathing which had intensified, and he found he was struggling to keep his chest from moving irregularly.
Why did she suddenly smell like roses? Was it perfume? Perhaps a gift from…
Surely not.
Shit.
He hated it, and he needed to leave before he said something he couldn't take back.
His expression twitched into a dark scowl, and his lip curled,
"Do you think I have the time to spare for your shitty puzzles?" He snapped, hoping that she wouldn't bring up the fact that he'd worked out the answer.
"No sir."
Her face had fallen the smallest amount, but rather than looking upset, she looked like she'd entirely expected his response. She looked troubled, but unsurprised. Something about it riled him even further;
"Don't leave your trash in my office." He growled, flinging the sheet from his hand which fluttered weakly to the ground as he stormed into the barracks.
—
Idiot Scoreboard ︎
Day : please god let it end now
I don't know how much more garbage I can take
3pts for highest gradewho cares
2pts for 2nd no-one that's who
1pt for 3rd no-one cares
0pts for last place sack it off
Newt of fucking lust 8
Lil Tease ︎ 7
Marta the Rageful! 9
whatever 6
Eld "It's about the journey, not the destination" Jinn
—
"I mean, really, my cadet was clearly the best from the offset. Of course I won. Anyone with eyes could have seen that coming - even a blind mole-rat could've seen it-" Oruo blustered, lifting one of his tankards with a swagger.
Aren't all mole-rats blind? Eld thought with a frown.
Oruo had three beers around him, as he'd insisted on claiming a drink from all the other squad members immediately, despite Petra's protests that he'd never manage to drink them all before the ale warmed up too much and became disgusting. The worst thing about it, was that they had to let him brag…as that was part of the prize for winning.
The sixth day had been essentially spent in the large briefing room where the cadet corps instructors ran through with the rookies what they had supposedly learned this week, while the veterans who coached them sat silently bored on the higher benches at the back of the room. Then the cadets had a Q and A with Commander Erwin, which was slightly more entertaining, as they got to watch him try to remain composed in the face of questions such as;
"I heard that if you eat enough onions, the titans stay away from you - is that true?"
And Eld's personal favourite, due to it's complete irrelevance;
"Who would in in a fight between you, Captain Levi…and a bear?"
He shook his head, he was so sure the Lion and the Newt were a shoo-in for the win. He'd even said as much in his most recent letter to Harriet. He couldn't believe he'd let Oruo take the crown, of all people.
"The best cadet? Do you mean tallest? scariest? I know I'm supposed to let you brag but I just think it was too close to call." He muttered sipping his own ale.
"Oruo, your 'cadet' got me cruelly evicted from a tree during my balancing demonstration." Petra groaned.
"Don't hate the player, hate the game." Oruo uttered smugly.
"Ok, well I hate both."
"Guys, shut it. He won fair and square. It's not his fault your trainees were so horny." Gunther said measuredly, and Eld was a little irritated that Gunther seemed so ok with this frankly terrible outcome. That guy just had to follow the exact rules of everything.
An hour or so went by and they beer flowed nearly as continually as Oruo's boasting. It had been a while since the squad had gotten drunk so quickly, but their exhausting trial of a week had created a desperate need to blow off steam, and Oruo in particular was now absolutely plastered.
"Well-" He hiccuped, taking another swig, "I feel like that victory was- d-deserved- as the only currently single member of the sp-spa-"
"Of the spa?" Gunther asked, "What spa would that be?"
"Of the - of the spa- spacial operations squad…"
"Wait." Gunther (ignoring the term 'spacial operations squad') hit a hand on the table, serious concern etched into his features, "Single? What about Lina?"
Oruo did a lazy, drunken hand-gesture, "Gone…poof! In a puff of smoke."
"She's missing?" Petra asked, a little scared.
"No! No she dumped me…" Oruo stated with a dark resolve.
The table fell quiet.
Eld, Gunther and Petra slumped back in their chairs, dumbstruck and all at once very bothered.
For the first time Eld felt glad that Oruo had won the competition.
"I'm sorry man."
Gunther's brows twitched, "Shit…that sucks."
"Oruo that's - why didn't you say anything?" Petra's eyes sparkled with sympathy, and she leant a little across the table towards him.
"The reason I d-din't say anything is because I just did say anything." He replied, slurring a little.
The squad managed to piece together what had happened from the scraps of coherence within Oruo's next few sentences. They'd been fighting for weeks with increasing frequency and drifting apart. Eld didn't want to say that he'd noticed. Lina had once been so warm to all of them, but lately they hadn't seen her very much. When they had seen her, she'd said almost nothing. Eld had just assumed she was going through a bad time personally.
"Hey hold on a minute." Petra interjected, "You said you were the only single member of the squad…but what about me?"
The three men groaned.
"What?" Her face was beginning to flush pink.
Eld put a hand on her shoulder, "Half-pint, you're wearing perfume Bert bought you right now."
She blinked, "…perfume's expensive, it would have been rude to reject it."
"Come on Red." Gunther said tiredly, his chin falling heavily into his hand, "I thought you were smarter than that."
"You t-think he bought you perfume as a friend Petra? D-don't make me laugh. Ha!" Oruo went to slap his thigh and missed.
Eld frowned, "Yeah man. I'm pretty much your biggest fan - and I mean no offence by this but, no way I'd splash that kinda cash on ya. That's gotta be a couple months wages at least. Besides, you went on a date with him right? And I've seen the pair of you chatting after band sometimes."
Petra's expression descended into one of alarm and her hands began to fidget, "Well - yeah…b-but I…"
Eld squeezed her shoulder, "You're good. Don't worry about it."
"Right. You just have to have an honest conversation with him. Let him know where your head's at." Gunther offered.
"If you're not feeling it then you're not feeling it." Eld added, "Unless…" he quirked a brow, "You are feeling it?"
—
Petra was completely still, staring at the table and blinked flatly a couple of times,
"No…I'm not."
Lord. She was such an idiot. Perhaps she was being deliberately dense because she needed the distraction from the Captain; but she didn't actually want any kind of romantic relationship with Bert. He was lovely, but that was it, he was a good friend. A good friend who hung around her at every free opportunity, who bought her perfume, and who had even begun sitting with the Special Ops squad in the mess hall at lunch sometimes.
Oh…god.
She was using the poor guy. How had it taken the squad to show her that? Wait - hadn't Hannah and Jules had said the exact same thing to her before this month's tavern quiz? Had everyone seen it apart from her?
It was against her nature to stifle her feelings. Petra always wore her heart on her sleeve but…since she'd been concealing the true nature of her admiration for her Captain, maybe she'd changed a bit. And now it was affecting how she was treating this very sweet, very tall man.
Of course she couldn't just tuck those unrequited feelings of hers away and expect to carry on as normal. Once one apple went off, the others quickly followed suit, even if they were in the picture of ripeness beforehand.
She glugged her ale. God. She'd have to have a talk with Bert as Gunther suggested.
—
Idiot Scoreboard ︎
Day :
We're out of tea
- Cpt Levi
—
so sad that will not let me format the scoreboard quite right...ah well
crossword solve!
Credit on tax to obtain a dress accessory? (6 letters)
Here the definition is at the end of the clue 'dress accessory'.
Credit is often abbreviated to 'cr' and tax is often referred to as 'VAT'. So we have 'Cr' on 'VAT' to obtain 'a' (to obtain here meaning to put in the middle - literally the other two parts obtain an 'a') which gives 'Cravat'.
Theres a couple homages in this one too -
the small scene where Oruo and Eld are having a back and forth about 'blades' is a homage to Green Wing - the show that partly inspired the title of pt 1
when Oruo says: "The reason I d-din't say anything is because I just did say anything." Is a ref to Dwight from the US office
thanks again for reading along, it feels like a rough old time for a lot of people right now so hope ur all doing good! i have bitten off way more than i can chew with the update sched sadly. heres to hoping things chill out soon.