A Less Cruel World
Disclaimer: I do not own AoT
AN Okay, this was SUPPOSE to be a oneshot, but everyone seems rather eager for more and I honestly felt inspired. So, yeah, this is getting a full-story treatment
In the dungeons of Nagrindr, the Eldian prison, the soldiers of Marley sat in despair. Their great armies had been destroyed by a monster, their proud nation defeated by those they deemed barbarians, and their last attempt to slay the chief-turned-king had failed miserably thanks to that...thing wearing the skin of a woman.
They could only sit and wait, stripped of their armor and weapons down to loincloths, waiting for whatever agony the Barbarian King would deliver upon them for their attempt on his life. Would he burn them alive? Have them hung by their entrails? Or were the stories true? Would they be fed alive to the Titaness herself?
One soldier was worse off than the others; their commander, the schemer of this plot, their last hope against the Eldians. He had his own cell, opposite of his soldiers' own, chained to a rack for all to see.
How had it come to this? Why had their gods abandoned them so against such a terrible enemy? Be she demon or goddess, she was clearly an enemy of their gods, was she not? How could the slaughter and destruction of all they had built go unanswered by the divine?
Their prayers and lamentations were brought to an end as they heard the doors open, many guards filling in with spears and blades. And with them came the barbarian himself: King Fritz.
He walked forth with a frown upon his face, paying no attention to the glaring men cursing under their breaths in one cell, the guards looking all too eager to stick a spear through the gaps if provoked. Instead, the king came before the commander's cell and stared in.
"Caius Liberius Lebienus," Fritz addressed authoritatively, a cold and cruel anger in his voice. "You're a very foolish boy, you are aware?"
The man of twenty some winters looked up with his ginger mane atop his head. His stare was defeated yet hard, refusing to give Fritz any more than he already had taken. "I suppose I should feel impressed you can speak the tongue of Marley," Caius remarked evenly.
Fritz gave him a stare of mocking, but did not smile. "I've heard all the tales of the genius of Marley, the one who was leading armies before his boyhood days had ended. Yet for all of that, did you even consider that plan through to the end?"
"I am fully prepared to die for Marley, Fritz," Caius spat, matching his tone. "All of us are willing to die for the Empire, and we will never surrender to your ilk."
Fritz stared for a moment...and then he laughed. He laughed long and hard, eliciting anger or fear from his captives. "Oh, you don't even see it, do you?" Fritz asked in genuine delight.
"See what, Barbarian?" Caius demanded, refusing to be shaken by the display. "All I see is an Eldian upstart losing his mind with power."
"Never surrender to your ilk," Fritz repeated, shaking his head in dark amusement. "Do you have any idea how many reiks of these lands have said those exact words, in defiance of your precious empire, Boy? Forgive me if I can't help savoring such a ...proud and accomplished Marleyian general being on this side of Victory and Defeat for a change."
"If not for that witch, we would-" Caius spat, snapping his jaw shut to reel in his anger.
"If the storm had come a day earlier, if the winter had just been less harsh, if the plague been more treatable," Fritz listed off mercilessly. "It's never about what would have been, Boy. Only what can still be. Life as a "barbarian" teaches that you rather well, if you want to survive."
"I grow weary of you, Fritz. Just deliver our fates and be done with it," Caius egged on. "I already said we have all been willing to die here."
"Yes, you are," Fritz remarked, a smirk creeping across his lips. "Which is why you're going to live."
"...What?" Caius remarked, not sure to be skeptical or dreadful of the implication.
"Believe me, Boy. I would love nothing more than to make you beg to die here, far from your homeland and never to see the light of day," Fritz said venomously. "But I left the choice to another, and she has asked me to give you mercy."
"Mercy? She?" Caius repeated, scowling as the pieces fell into place. "You're lying. The Titaness would never show us mercy."
"No, boy, "I" would never show you mercy. But since it was she you injured, however fruitless that was, I thought it fitting to let her decide your punishment. Imagine my surprise when she asked for mercy on your part! Ha! But unlike you, I am at least a man of my word. So you will all leave here, and return to Marley without further injury."
"...Why?" Caius asked with a scowl. "Does she just want us humiliated, disgraced?"
"Her? No. Me? Very. Which is why I had my own condition to add. If the living can't punish you, I'll use the dead to do it," Fritz remarked grimly.
"And how would you do that? Feed them to your pet witch?" Caius asked sarcastically.
"No, you foolish boy," Fritz denied. "You led those men to their death here. Now you will carry them home. In pieces."
"...You wouldn't," Caius said with wide eyes even as his men started to yell in anger or cry in despair for the fallen, doomed to a limbless fate in the underworld.
"I'd do worse usually," Fritz answered honestly. "Your fallen soldiers will be chopped into pieces, bit by bit. They will be stored in urns, strapped to the backs of you and your men. You all chose this path, now you will carry the load to your homelands. There, you can tell their families what they died for, and tell them that it was that so wretched Titaness that begged me to spare your worthless lives."
"Those men died proudly to give one last defiance against you, Barbarian," Caius seethed.
"Yes, and unlike what you feared, you'll actually have corpses to bury when you arrive home, even if they are in pieces," Fritz remarked with a smirk, turning to glare at the onlooking captives in the other cell, their faces a mixture of disbelief and relief and anger. "And while you're waiting to go home to your families, do recall just who had mercy on your pathetic lives while your general withers in his utter defeat."
With that, the king left them all to stew, the group of guards leaving with him.
"Well, that's unusual for you, Alareik."
Fritz paused in the halls of Nagrindr, spying a dark haired woman, fully dressed in chainmail and leather armor, leaning on her spear. Men of Marley would and do indeed call her ugly for her obvious muscles and less than soft appearance,accented with a few small scars, but Fritz knew a third of his men would give an arm for a night with her.
Himself not so much, but that had little to do with her body.
"If you weren't Reik of the Jarnvidr, I'd probably have you in a cell with them for refusing to call me King," Fritz remarked, more annoyed than angry, his men obviously eyeing her; some with caution, others with lust. Most of the smart ones did both.
She shrugged uncaringly. "Former Reik. And call me old fashion, but I like our traditions and titles more than those of the southern rats," she remarked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "So, what's this about me not being allowed to torture them? I mean, some of us were hoping to practice our blood-eagles."
"And some still wonder why you were chosen to be the Warden of Nagrindr," Fritz said in jest before sobering. "Lady Ymir desired mercy for them, I decided to give it."
"Lady Ymir, eh? Well, if it's the Titaness, I suppose it can't be helped," She accepted with overdramatic disappointment. "Still, I'm not the Grief-Bringer for nothing. I'll be sure they get a clear view as we...prepare the bodies of their comrades."
"Just don't lose any of the pieces-and no castration this time," Fritz ordered with a headshake.
"Oh, take all the fun out of it, Alareik," she said with a grin. "If that'll be all."
"There is one other thing..."
Meanwhile
"Mother, you don't know how to read?" Maria asked in surprise, her and her sisters sitting on her bed around her mother, who held a parchment in her hands. "Or is my hand writing just that bad? My teachers said it was good."
"I can. Read," Ymir assured, looking neither angry nor embarrassed by the question. "Everything. Looks. Strange. On. This. Goatskin."
"Our teachers call it vellum?" Rose stated questioningly.
"Is it. Not. Goatskin?" Ymir asked in confusion.
"I think it's made from calves?" Maria answered uncertainly. "They say it's a better kind of parchment."
"Poor baby cows," Sheena remarked with a small whine.
Ymir stared at her daughters for a moment before returning to the parchment. "Strange name," she murmured as she studied the writing. "Maria? That's. Not. How You. Spell. The word. For wedge."
"I know," Maria said with a small smile.
Ymir looked to her in confusion than back at the paper. "Then. Why did. You. Write. Cunt?" she asked in confusion.
"Maria!" Rose said in embarrassment, uncharacteristically loud and making her mother flinch. "Why do you know that word?!"
"Why do you?" Maria countered.
"What's a cunt?" Sheena asked curiously.
"I made the mistake by accident, and I asked Father why one of the servants got all embarrassed reading my letter to him out loud at dinner once," Maria answered with a grin. "I like adding in little "mistakes" like that sometimes."
"Doesn't. Your. Teachers. And. Father. Get. Mad?" Ymir questioned with a small frown.
"My teachers do, but Father just laughs when he hears about it," Maria answered fondly.
Ymir hummed. She had expected as much, but she was glad her children seem to be confirming it: Fritz wasn't a horrible or cruel father.
"Mother, why is Father always so busy?" Sheena asked curiously, looking up with wide and innocent eyes.
Ymir wasn't sure what to say. She probably should say something that sounded complimentary to Fritz. But she wasn't sure she knew the words to explain what ruling meant, least of all to children.
"There is. A lot. Of things. That need. To be. Done. Around. Eldia's. Lands," Ymir answered vaguely. "It. Used. To be. A lot. Smaller."
Maria looked understanding, but Sheena looked like she was just accepting it as something she'd understand when she was older.
"What happened to your voice, Mother?" Rose asked softly against her back, feeling her mother stiffen. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" she apologized quickly.
Ymir felt rather strange, someone trying to apologize to her, even if it was her daughter. "I am. Not. Upset," Ymir said over her shoulder. "I. Just. Do not. Want. To talk. About it."
"Okay," Maria said, relieved but still sounding sad. "I was just wondering why you talk slow like that?"
Ymir decide that was something she could answer, at least. "It. Feels. Strange. To talk. After. All this. Time," she admitted, having been silent and obedient for well over thirteen years now. She knew the words, even if many felt foriegn to her tongue now. Or maybe it was because this was her second tongue.
"You have a beautiful voice, Mother," Maria said with a reassuring smile.
Ymir genuinely looked surprised by that, almost feeling embarrassed. It was...a feeling she didn't have much experience with. "I do?"
All three of them nodded, Sheena much faster than the others. "Very, very pretty!" she said, as if her judgement was undeniable.
The other two sisters giggled.
"It. Is. Late. I need. To go," Ymir warned abruptly as she gave the parchment back to Maria.
Sheena looked like she wanted to protest, but the image of their mother with a spear running through her was still too vivid in their mind to be too selfish. If she wanted rest, they wouldn't keep her as much as they wanted her to stay.
That didn't stop them from giving her another hug from all sides. Once more, Ymir was left uncertain by the action, but wrapped her arms around them as well.
The embrace broke, allowing the Titaness to rise from the bed and head for the door. "Good night, Mother. We love you!" Maria called after her.
Ymir stopped at the door, freezing at those words. She didn't turn around, hesitating between leaving and speaking. Ultimately, one of them won out. "I. Love. You. Too."
If Ymir had looked, as she would have seen the faces of three little girls glowing in joy, to finally hear those words from their mother. But she didn't turn back, leaving the three to their own happiness.
"We...we should return to our rooms soon," Maria remarked, unable to stop smiling.
Sheena just kept grinning while Rose wiped away her own tears. A comfortable silence followed over them, enjoying the cherished memory that had arisen out of this terrible day.
"Maria?" Rose spoke up suddenly. "Do you think Mother and Father love each other?"
Maria opened her mouth before closing it again. She was the eldest daughter, she had been taught things that they weren't yet. She knew that most marriages for those of their station were more about politics and benefits rather than about love. Love could exist, true, but it usually came after the marriage, instead of the marriage forming from love.
"Of course Mother loves Father!" Sheena answered strongly, glaring at the middle sister as if it was obvious. "Mother almost died saving Father! Why would she do that if she didn't love him?!"
Maria had to admit, that was a good point. People didn't leap in front of spears for people they didn't like. Maybe their mother did love their father after all. Still, he was the king. Love or not, maybe she was just that loyal to him? And their father was clearly distressed when she had been injured in saving him.
Still, she didn't want to get their hopes up about finding any notion of true love when they grew up. But she couldn't find it in her to crush their spirits right now, after everything that happened today. So she didn't say anything.
"Hey, wait," Sheena said with a pinched brow. "No one answered my question. What's a cunt?!"
Meanwhile
Ymir found herself in her own room, on her own bed. It was large, but furnished sparsely due to her own lack of requests for anything. But the furniture present was of the finest quality they had. Much of it loot from the victories against cities of Marley along their border. The bed and clothes had come from some place far south, having been bought by a Marleyian Governor before the Eldians attacked. There was also a metal device she could hold in her hand to show her reflection with its shiny metal surface. It wasn't perfect, but it was something many women used to make sure everything was in proper order. It had a handle in the shape of a woman; a nude woman at that. A depiction of a goddess judging by the near impossible beauty of the figure. There was also a marble table with three legs. Why three legs instead of four?
And, more tellingly, were the...trophies mounted on the walls. Swords, shields, spears, helmets, even pieces of armor. All kinds of things to mark as a reminder of a victory she had been responsible for.
She didn't particularly like them, being reminded of the people she had killed in the name of Fritz.
Thoughts of her master dragged her away from her idleness. Nothing in her life had really changed. From the day she was enslaved, to the day she fell into the Ash Tree, to this very day that her life nearly ended. No matter what clothes he wore, how large his realm became, or even what title he had...her master was still exactly that, her master: He commanded, she obeyed. No matter how good her meals were, how soft her beds were, or how clean her clothes were...she was still his slave.
And then, she had been about to die today. She would have too. She just didn't have the strength in her soul to keep on going if nothing changed. She was a terrible mother, she supposed. Even the thought of leaving her children behind hadn't been enough to rouse her spirit. Even if Fritz commanded it, she wouldn't have been able to bring herself to push on, to survive, to keep moving forward.
Yet, all the same, she had done just that.
Why was she alive? What prompted her to live?
Unlike her master, the question was one she easily knew the answer to.
He asked her to come back.
Her master never asked for anything, least of all from her. He was the ruler, the Reik and now the King. She was his slave. He ordered, and she obeyed until she couldn't.
Still, he asked. He pleaded for her to stay.
In that moment, her heart latched onto that. She wanted, needed to know why he asked that.
Everything after that just confused her. He saw her mind, her soul? He thought she wanted to kill him, all this time? He actually asked her what she wanted?
It was all too confusing. She didn't know what to think about any of it.
All because he couldn't believe she risked her life to save him.
It wasn't like it was the first time, not from her perspective. She had defended him and his tribesmen a few times from catapults and...whatever those things that shot giant spears were called, among other things. True, she had been in her other form, what all called the Titaness, but the distinction didn't feel that important to think about at the time.
After all, she could have let him die all of those times too. Pretended not to notice an attack going in his direction, let it slip by her hands. But she didn't. She knew she could have, but she didn't feel the temptation.
She didn't want him to die. Regardless of everything he had done, that didn't mean she wanted him to die. And if she didn't want him to die, then killing him herself was not even a consideration.
Still, something seemed to be changing. She didn't...dislike it, but didn't know what it meant yet. What did he mean by seeing her mind or soul, exactly?
Whatever it meant, he now seemed almost...grateful to have her, more genuinely. Before today, everything had been simple. He commanded, she obeyed. Fritz had regarded her like one would a sword…which was better than one might think. A warrior used a sword, did as he needed and did as he pleased with it, but he didn't treat it poorly. Swords had to be maintained with care to not get dull or stuck in the sheath or break over time. But that care was minimalistic in most cases, both with a weapon and with herself.
Just enough to live without feeling alive.
Yet, now he was asking what she wanted instead of just giving her a reward of his choosing.
He...Wait, did he actually agree to let the soldiers of Marley return? She couldn't recall. The conversation seemed to twist and turn in her memory. Neither of them had ever been particularly open with each other in such a way.
She brushed her tongue over her teeth, reminding her it was still there. Memories of her original tongue were faint at best, before being a slave. She only barely remembered the day she lost it, fearfully waiting in line for a man to pull out her tongue and cut it out.
There was a lot of blood.
She didn't recall much after that, days of slavery just blurring together until the attack on Eldia from another tribe, and then the incident with the pigs.
Then the Ash Tree.
She winced, grabbing her head as a pain rumbled through her for an instant. Trying to remember, thinking too hard about what happened down in the depth of that tree gave her headaches. She fell into something, almost like water, but maybe not? All she saw was some strange thing that had...connected to her, on her back.
There was nothing on her back now, she used the reflection metal to make sure, and she was sure someone would have reacted at least to something unnatural being in plain view on her.
What was she now, really? The giant body she formed, her body regenerating, the strange substances she could create. What was she?
They called her a Titan, a Giant. Something like a God. But she didn't feel like a God. Even with all her powers, she didn't feel different at all from before her fall into the Ash Tree.
After all, Gods weren't slaves.
And she was a slave.
Wasn't she?
Yes, she was, she decided. If Fritz ordered her to do anything, anything at all, she would do it. That was a slave.
A small smile came to her face as her time with her children echoed in her ears. They loved her. That at least made sense to her.
The smile vanished as another thought came to her mind. It had been five years since she bore a child. And Marley was now defeated. Fritz would probably want her to have more children without Eldia's major enemy to threaten them. She was in her prime, or so she had heard. And if the healers were to be believed, she had very easy and safe births. Another benefit of her powers, maybe? Either way, she didn't think dying in childbirth was a worry.
So, she could have many more children still if her master wished.
Sheena would probably like not being the youngest. Rose she wasn't sure about. Maria almost seemed to enjoy taking care of her siblings.
She was grateful for the lives her daughters lived. They never wanted for anything and would likely learn things she still had no knowledge of. Eldian warriors were mainly men, but they had women that fought too and even women who were Reiks. One of them might be Queen of Eldia someday. Being a king's concubine was something even most freewomen would want.
Her master hadn't been lying when he called bearing his child a reward, in that sense.
She curled her legs up again, wrapping her arms around them.
She didn't dislike children, let alone her own, but she wasn't sure about how she felt about...having them…making them.
Maybe it was just because she didn't fully understand it from the start? After her people became slaves, the old healers at the time didn't really care if the young slaves really understood what sex was or the importance of it. And even if someone would listen, they couldn't really ask without tongues.
It'd be nice if there was a way to speak without speaking. Writing wasn't always an option.
Ymir glanced out her window. She hadn't been this thoughtful in a long time. There was never much to think about. She just obeyed. She still did, but things felt...complicated now. She didn't know why. Nothing was really diff-
"If you wish to be free, you may."
Those words hit her as if for the first time. Was that it? She never had a choice in anything before, but...did having a choice really mean anything if she only chose to obey? If she chose not to have a choice?
Ymir crawled on top of her bed, not even bothering with the covers. Thinking was getting her nowhere. Sleep was a more appealing option right now, after everything.
End of Chapter
Before anyone asks, I got the term "Reik" from the series "Barbarians" as a Germanic term for Chief. Part of my efforts to make this feel like its set 2000 years ago. Looking up a lot of Norse/Germanic and Roman stuff for this, obviously.
So, yes, Fritz is still the cruel bastard we know he is, I'm making constant efforts not to make him feel like he's suddenly turned good or anything overnight. But while he's not the most attentive or affectionate parent, he tries not to be a horrible one- you know, since Ymir didn't die like in canon, so he doesn't have to desperately try to find a way to make them inherit Ymir's power to make sure Eldia doesn't get destroyed without her.
Ymir herself had an interesting time with her daughters, but is very lost and confused while trying to process and understand everything.
Hope you all enjoyed this!
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