Royal Palace – Wall Sina, present day

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The interior of his spacious office was far too quiet for Jarell Wolf's current frazzled state of mind. He sat slumped in his chair, head thrown back over the cherrywood back.

My sister. I found her. Finally after everyone gave her up for dead. But she's like a wild animal. He absently fingered his stitched cheek covered in gauze. How on earth am I supposed to explain the cuts on my arm and face to the King? Sorry sir, but I had a run-in with my long-lost older sister who just happens to be the infamous Titan Ripper and I didn't want to fight her, but she sliced me anyway as a warning? He scoffed letting his arm fall limp, wincing slightly at the dull ache in his forearm. There was no doubt if he had the privilege-or misfortune-of crossing paths with her in the future, she would probably kill him.

For some reason that made his insides twist and his heart ache. Would he be able to face her again? I'm still obligated to the King…but how can I investigate this case with Sierra in the thick of it? I still haven't written to Mom. Or told Aurora and the kids. How? How am I gonna do this?

The warmth from the midafternoon sun enveloped him in its comforting embrace. Jarell let his eyelids droop, the ticking from the baby grandfather clock situated next to his bookshelf lulling him into a semi-relaxed state. The morning's encounter with Sierra played back in vivid detail, indelibly etched into his memory reels.

Fierce silver eyes glared down at him, swords drawn. Fiery hair waving in the breeze twelve feet above his face. Looking at him like he was lower than the dirt beneath his boots. Her scratchy alto growling like a cornered street dog.

"Die bastard!"

She moved so fast it took all of his combat training to dodge what would've been a pair of fatal strikes. Even though he should've been doing his job and apprehend her, deep down, he couldn't do it. Jarell knew this decision might cost him his position, but…for the love of God, it was his big sister! The one he swore to his dying father in front of the entire family that he would continue to search for until he could bring her home.

"I'm not going to fight my own flesh and blood."

But she sailed over his head. And God help him, he would never get the image of her landing lightly on her toes in the mouth of that alleyway, like a bird poised to take off. So graceful. So lethal.

The magnetism she exuded during their youth was vastly different now. Stronger. Overwhelming. Dominant. The kind that probably had men and women alike inexplicably drawn in despite her prickly demeanor. She always had that effect on people. He wondered if this odd trait was exclusive to the Wolf family. According to his dad, it was said their clan had an unusual persuasive charm that made others follow.

After meeting Sierra in that alley his doubts were erased.

He didn't hear the soft insistent knocking at the door at first. Jarell let his grey eyes glass over further trying to lose himself in the memory a bit longer.

Wintry eyes.

Scarred flesh.

Biting steel through his skin. Razor sharp, branding him for life-

Knock knock knock.

Him staggering out of the alleyway into pedestrian traffic after standing rooted to the spot like a damned fool, the coppery scent of blood filling his nostrils. A glaring reminder he had to seek medical attention for his attempt to play peacemaker.

Knock knock knock!

"What?!" He snapped jerking his head up. Furious at whoever it was who dared intrude on his walk down memory lane.

"I-It's Giselle, sir," came the tremulous voice of his new courier per orders of the King. "I brought you coffee, but if you're busy I could always-"

Jarell dragged a hand across his face, wincing when his fingers met his wounded cheek. "Come in Ms. Zimmerman. Forgive my rudeness."

The doorknob turned and Giselle Zimmerman swiftly entered her superior's domain, still attempting to wrap her mind around the fact she had moved up closer to the man she idolized. She carried a silver tray over to Jarell's desk two steaming cups of freshly brewed coffee resting in expensive silver mugs.

"It's okay sir." She offered him a gentle smile. "And I believe I told you to call me Giselle. Remember?"

Jarell blew on the steaming liquid to cool it off.

"Right. Sorry. Everything's kind of…weird right now."

"With the investigation?" She peered over the rim of her mug, olive-green orbs hanging on his every word. "Or is it something more?"

He nodded, absently reclining in his seat.

"Both."

"And you're not gonna tell me how you obtained those cuts sir?"

Jarell opened an eye and she fell silent. "No Giselle. They're not life-threatening so there's nothing for you to worry your pretty head about."

The older girl lowered her head, a blush staining her cheeks. Jarell rolled his eyes and took another sip. But the truth's gonna come out sooner or later, he mused watching tendrils of steam curl past his nose. I just need to come up with a plausible excuse. And not appear before the King for a couple of weeks-

Giselle suddenly jerked to attention, coffee forgotten. "Oh, right! I almost forgot to tell you. The King wants a status report on your investigation in four days' time, sir. Even if only to say there's nothing to report he's getting antsy. He and the rest of the MPs and the nobility will want reassurance that this situation with the Scouts is under control."

Jarell froze, coffee cup halfway to his lips. Four days?! That's not enough time! Giselle was too distracted to notice his distress when she dropped another bombshell.

"Oh, and there's one more thing I need to tell you. The Central Police Brigade will also be present at the briefing per the King's request. They'll most likely be assigned to assist your investigation so the more you find out about the Survey Corps plans the better it will go for you Sergeant. And if I may be so bold sir, you may need to concoct a solid excuse for those injuries."

Jarell tightened his grip on the cup's rim, nearly bending the edge. Suddenly he needed to be alone.

"Is my jacket ready Zimmerman?"

She blinked. "Sir?"

"My jacket Runner. What's the status on it?"

"Last I heard it should be fully repaired and cleaned right now. Sir, what's the mat-"

Jarell stood swiftly causing her to fall back a step, clutching the serving tray to her chest.

"Bring these cups down to the galley. Then run over to the seamstress and tell her you're picking up my jacket on my behalf. Go to my quarters and place it on my bed then you are dismissed for the night. Understood?"

Giselle threw a crisp salute.

"Yes sir!"

Once she was gone, Jarell began to pace the carpet in front of his desk, hands clasped behind his back. Dammit. Just my rotten luck. I've got nothing on the Scouts' next move and with the chaos regarding the Wall, there's no telling what kind of secrets are going to come out.

Not to mention the fact his initial report was due in four days, it was who would be there when he delivered it that made his blood boil.

He'd never liked the Interior Police Brigade and its corrupt bloodthirsty Captain, Kenny Ackerman. The man always gave him the creeps. Even during his cadet days serving under Commander Dok as a Runner, the dark, perverse aura surrounding the tall man made his insides churn. Bastard might dress like a gentleman but he's foolin' nobody. Least of all me. Kenny knew he hated his guts and in true elitist fashion didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of the way he conducted business.

It brought back the unpleasant memory of when he'd been selected to join the Royal Guard. Upon his acceptance into the Military Police at age fifteen, he worked another three years under Nile Dok where he met his future wife Aurora Rinehart-a lovely compassionate young woman-at one of the military balls when he was eighteen and she seventeen. The couple hit it off instantly, and were married within a year of their meeting.

Their first child Gunner was born a scant year after their honeymoon and suddenly Jarell found himself a young father with nothing but the clothes on his back and his military stipend-which was average at best-and he couldn't bring his new wife and newborn son into the barracks.

When he heard the King's aides were searching for a new recruit for the Royal Guard, Jarell was pulled aside by Nile Dok who told him he had personally recommended his name and credentials and was now in the running to be considered for the position.

The news left the younger man dizzy. I could provide for Aurora and the baby. With that salary? No problem. And I can continue searching for Sierra. Keep my promise to Dad. Maybe I'll move Mom into the Interior when I become a Sergeant or Captain. It'll be perfect!

But this was the Capitol. Nothing was ever easy let alone perfect.

By the time two months had come and gone he'd fallen right back into his old routine. If it was meant to be then it would happen. Jarell knew he was competing against fellow officers who were-in his teenage mind-way more qualified to meet the King's rigorous standards. While he wasn't a country bumpkin from one of the outlying villages or districts like Shiganshina, being a merchant's son was just a step above the poverty line. There were kids who hailed from powerful families and wealthier districts. Surely they would waste no time throwing their influence around in order to make the cut. Honest men like him rarely lasted long and were barely spared a second glance.

It came unlooked for one lazy morning after the nineteen-year-old was busy filing reports at his station while Commander Dok sat dozing in his straight back chair soft snores filling his opulent office. The tranquil setting was shattered by an authoritative knocking on the heavy wooden door.

Jarell glanced over just as Dok snorted himself awake.

"Who's there?" The high-strung man barked, furiously rubbing sleep grit out of his eyes.

"Captain Solomon Baptiste of the Royal Guard," came a man's low scratchy voice, sounding like he drank heavily or was a chain-smoker.

Both men leaped to their feet, adjusting their uniforms and quickly smoothing their hair.

"Come in, Captain please."

The door swung open and a tall no-nonsense man strode through. Black close-cropped hair provided a stunning contrast to gimlet aquamarine eyes and fair skin stretched over a muscular physique. Jarell had no time to ponder why such a high-ranking official was doing in his Commander's domain. Baptiste suddenly fixed Dok's young charge with his piercing stare.

"You," he rasped making Jarell straighten his spine. "Your name is Cadet Jarell Wolf. Is that correct?"

Jarell swallowed hard schooling his face into an impassive mask.

"Correct, sir!" Baptiste waved off his salute.

"At ease boy." Jarell wasted no time complying with the order. Baptiste grunted then revealed the reason he'd been sent. "As you might know, there was an official announcement sent out by His Majesty regarding several vacancies pertaining to the Royal Guard. I have been sent to formally collect and deliver you to the palace where you will stay until further notice. You will be provided for during your stay so there is no need to bring anything from the barracks. However, there will be several others in consideration for the job, so be sure to bear that in mind. The King will be making the final decision which candidate will join our elite ranks. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Just one sir. If I may." At the man's brusque nod the teen took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"What'll I tell my wife? We just had our first child not too long ago, and right now she's not keen on me being away for long hours because of that."

"That's it?"

Jarell nodded. Aurora was a strong woman, but if his duties required him to be gone for lengthy periods, he spent a little extra time holding his young wife in his arms reassuring her that he was going to be safe as humanly possible and return home in one piece.

"You will promise her nothing, because you'll be going with me to the palace immediately."

"But-"

Baptiste glared at him, causing Nile Dok to suck in his breath. Don't argue with him Wolf. Please. Hold your tongue. If I can juggle the burden of my position as Commander of the Military Police as a married man, you'll have to suck it up and bear it.

"If you're going to make this difficult Cadet, then this conversation is over. By the slim chance your name is selected, you will be at the mercy of the King's whim. His will supersedes any domestic conflict of interest. When one becomes an officer to the King, your time is no longer your own. And because of the demanding schedule, many of us in the Guard are single or divorced. It's impossible to please two masters and it's usually the spouse that always forces us to choose between them and the job. Most of us would rather deal with the King than with a nag. Anyway, enough of that. I've wasted enough time." Baptiste crossed the room on sure, steady feet, his gear creaking as he walked. "Come."

Jarell glanced toward his Commander, who gave him a shrug as if to say it's up to you kid.

He rounded up all his doubts and fears and herded them into the smallest mental trunk he could find. Slammed the lid shut. Summoned his courage.

Remember why you're here. Provide for your family. And pick up where Dad left off.

With that litany running through his mind, Jarell allowed himself to be taken to the royal palace. The process took another week before the six candidates-him making it a round seven-were informed of the King's final choice.

It turned out the selection process was far more ceremonious than he expected. One of the things he noticed on arrival was the set of fresh clothes laid out in each candidate's temporary quarters and the lack of a proper uniform. Upon query, he was told by the soldier assigned to him that the chosen candidate would be issued a new uniform and title bestowed by the King and that he needn't worry himself with the details.

He got the underlying message loud and clear. Shut up and behave.

Before they knew it, Jarell and his six fellow candidates were being summoned to the antechamber adjacent to the throne room where King Fritz would make the fateful announcement that would change one of their lives forever.

The whispering hum of hushed voices floated into the antechamber, causing Jarell to raise a brow. Huh. Sounds like a full house out there. Prolly invited a bunch of big-wigs and dignitaries. Lovely.

"Hey," one of the candidates named Ernst whispered a stocky male with longish blonde hair, tawny eyes darting nervously towards the yawning entrance. "I thought this was gonna be a private affair, not a public spectacle."

"Well it's the King man, what'd you expect?" Someone else retorted. A female. "Chill out. It's not like all of us are getting promoted."

"Quiet." All heads snapped over to Jarell who issued the curt order. "They're starting."

"Alright boys and girls!" A man's rough booming voice announced to his attentive audience. "The name's Captain Kenny Ackerman, and according to this damned envelope I'm supposed ta give some big ass speech welcoming the newest piece of meat to our ranks or whatever. But since I ain't in the mood I'm just gonna tear this sucker open and get this over with."

Jarell blinked at the man's rude address. Wondering why the King didn't punish him on the spot. Ackerman? Ya mean to tell me this guy's in charge and not Baptiste? Distaste churned in his gut. And I haven't laid eyes on him. This could be bad.

"A-Ackerman?" Ernst squeaked, hands gripped tightly to prevent them from shaking. "The Butcher of the Central Police Brigade? Oh God. Please. No-"

Fear seized the faces of all present. Jarell fought to keep his expression closed. If this was a test then he needed to be strong. Wouldn't be the first time they've done this. Keep it together Wolf.

"So, without further ado," Ackerman continued. "Let's see who the unlucky bastard is." The sweating teens could hear the crinkle of parchment as the envelope was opened. Then the Captain cleared his throat.

"Cadet Jarell Wolf. Get out here kid! Chop chop!"

Dazed Jarell stared at the short distance from the door to the stage, looking twenty miles instead of twenty steps.

He didn't have time to feel dizzy.

"Oi dumbass! Stop wastin' my time and git out here!"

Mortified, the teen hastily wiped the sweat off his face, straightened his shoulders and marched rigidly out to polite applause.

He spotted Solomon Baptiste standing on the King's left hand side, thankful to see a familiar face despite only meeting him briefly in Nile Dok's office a week ago. But as he stood at attention facing Ackerman the dark aura surrounding the tall, dapper-looking man set his teeth on edge. Man. This guy's a special kind of nasty. And I'm one of his colleagues? Oh joy.

A perverse grin slipped over Kenny's angular jaw. "Heh. So, you're the fresh meat." Cold, gimlet gray eyes made Jarell feel he was prey being sized up by a predator and willed his body and mind to remain calm. "If you were one of my men I'd have all sorts of fun stuff cooked up but you're in luck. King Fritz wants to keep ya close by him." He thrust the brand-new Police uniform-complete with the Sina Royal Crest on one of the sleeves-at his chest which Jarell cautiously accepted and donned in one fluid motion.

"Thank you, Captain." The court fell silent at their ruler's smooth, well-rounded tones. "You may withdraw." Kenny gave the King a short bow then resumed his position with the other high-ranking military personnel.

"Jarell," the monarch commanded his newest charge. "Approach."

The young man walked forward until Fritz held up a hand.

"Good enough. Now kneel."

Jarell obeyed swiftly taking a knee, eyes trained respectfully on the polished floor. He heard the rustling of expensive robes and the cold touch of the royal scepter on his right shoulder.

"I, King Fritz in the year 848 of our Lord, hereby declare you Jarell Wolf, a member of my Royal Guard in front of God and all these gathered witnesses. From this day forth, you have become a part of a proud elite that have safeguarded the Royal House for many generations. You will have jurisdiction over the entirety of the Walls and its occupants therein. You will be expected to carry out your duties with the excellence demanded of your position. The safety of the Interior and all its inhabitants therein are to be treated with the highest priority. Should the situation arise you will put your life on the line to protect the royal family and any present and future dignitaries therewith." Jarell closed his eyes, slightly overwhelmed by the King's words, but he was no quitter. Mama raised me to see things through. No matter how daunting the task.

"The life of a Guardsman is arduous," Fritz continued fingers steady on his scepter. "But the Crown demands nothing less than the very best, the brightest minds, the strongest bodies, the most intrepid spirits, and the fortitude of courage under fire. You will only be released from your post if you are physically or mentally incapable of carrying out your duties or killed in the line of duty. Now. By the power invested in me by the Crown and our Sacred Church, I command you to rise, Sergeant Wolf and be welcomed into our family."

Jarell rose to his feet to thunderous applause as he saluted the crowd.

Sergeant. This is real. I can't wait to tell Aurora!

After that, things moved quickly. He moved his growing family into a nicer house. He even got permission to move his mother and younger brothers to the Captiol whenever they wished. And he celebrated his promotion by making passionate love with his beautiful wife.

Not a year later, their second son Zander entered the world. All in all, life was good to the young elite.

But amidst all the chaos, he didn't forget his true mission.

Now here he was, and his quest had finally reached its abrupt end. Sierra was found. But she wanted nothing to do with him. And now he was faced with a looming deadline with no possible leads and an injured cheek and arm.

And Kenny Ackerman was going to be present at his debriefing.

Jarell laid both palms flat on his desk. He was shaking.

Okay Wolf. Think. If I was an ambitious Commander hell-bent on my own personal crusade, where would I go next?

The answer came to him a few moments of panicked thinking later. He started chuckling. Erwin might be a sly fox same as Hange Zoe was, but they were in way over their heads. Not to mention they'd literally came in like gangbusters with a Titan Shifter under his command and left Stohess in ruins.

Running his hand over his face, Jarell carefully peeled the gauze covering the six-inch slash mark over his left cheek.

He headed in the direction of his personal quarters for some much-needed sleep. Tomorrow at first light, the hunt was on.

TBC…

A/N: Yes! It's finally done! Over 3700 words of original content as requested. So. Hopefully this'll calm some of y'all down who were yelling about the last 2 chapters being rehashed content. I am going to make this clear here and now so there is no future confusion: chps 22-23 were used PRIMARILY to break an extra stubborn writer's block I was under and get the creative juices flowing again. It wasn't my intention to anger people. I hope y'all understand that.

Also, keep in mind, original material is gonna take longer to bang out so it might take me a bit before posting a new chapter. Also, big hugs to all 148 favorites and 222 follows, holy CRAP y'all are AMAZING!

As always, enjoy and don't forget to review. :)