Chapter 21: Golden Hour

Time slows in certain moments, like a whirlpool suddenly surrounds all the people in a room and force their legs backward. Those standing still swerve to the left, and the unlucky few near the center spin without end. No bribe, good intention, or waiting visitor cools the swirl, and all its occupants can do is push forward with all bravery and knowledge of drowning. Water, of course, doesn't fill the lungs of those oppressed by this strange force of nature, but all air is sucked from the room and held at the ceiling by a teasing mistress. The following week, Larmie and Jamie agreed that something strange had happened on the Cartwell farm late in the afternoon, a hurricane pulling them all toward the house, driving the father into confusion and the brother into action. Regardless, when Edie reached the door, fighting every bone and cyclone which pulled her back, the winds ceased and released. Hajule relaxed her defensive stance, Larmie shuddered and went back to business, Jamie scurried to the loft's exit to see what was the matter, and Edie faced her battle.

"Captain." Edie shut the door behind her, hands still on the handle. She stuck to the wood. "Good afternoon."

"Miss Cartwell." The captain just finished tying up his horse and stroked its neck. He wore a simple black jacket, pants, and a gray dress shirt. His hair was nicely combed to the right with some strands hanging over his left eye. Despite seeing him in uniform and at a formal event recently, she admitted he looked good. He walked to the bottom of the stairs and stared at her for a moment, then cleared his throat. "How are you?"

"Fine. Yourself?"

"Restless."

"Was your work frustrating?"

He shrugged. "Despite our objections, people are still people, and they make mistakes. But the Scouts seem to garner a scrutinous eye."

"Of course. No good person can be offered grace."

"Not within the walls." He rested a hand on the railing corner. "But that'll always be true of the military. We deal with human lives, after all, and not always in the savior's way."

"Well, on the edge of the world, there's little else to do." Edie managed to step forward and lean on the column at the top of the steps. "Since you turned my mother away, what can I do for you?"

"Do you have any evening plans?"

She glanced at the door. "Dinner with my family, and perhaps close friends. He joins the Cadet Corps in under two weeks." Edie shrugged. "I'm sure any plans as acquaintances can be rescheduled."

"Not these." The captain nodded, rapping his knuckles on the wood. "I promise it'll be well worth your while."

"How long?"

"Three hours."

"Goodness." Edie pulled her braid over her shoulder. "I'm not sure I can—"

"Edie, dear—" The door creaked open, and Hajule poked her head outside, a mischievous grin on her face. "Remember Jamie asked us if he could have a dinner with just his friends? We never set a date for that, and I'm sure he can take Simeon and ask them tonight. Besides, the rest of these potatoes are about to go bad, and a friendly potluck is just the thing to get rid of them. We can mash them, for time's sake."

"What does that—"

"Jamie won't want us underfoot for that. Larmie and I will dine with Mr. Solway, if you can find something to do while he eats dinner with his schoolmates."

Oh, you— but Edie turned and smiled. "It seems I've had a change of plans. Although, I must insist on riding alone."

"I wouldn't insist on anything else," the captain assured her. He untied his horse, and the two began walking to the stable. A light remnant breeze lifted her hair and brushed it against his jacket, but he only smiled. "This time is so—"

"Captain Levi!" Jamie screeched from the barn door. "You've come back! Fantastic! Are you—"

"Jamie, mother wants you inside."

He tilted his head. "No, but she said I wasn't to come back until the loft was completely clean from all the—"

"Jamie. You're having your friends over tonight, but she needs to talk to you."

"But—no, but she said that I had to finish this—and it's a chore, so I can't—"

"I'll get Dia ready," the captain interrupted softly. He tied his horse's reins quickly and made his way inside, greetings fading.

Jamie blinked, pointing from her to him rapidly. "YOU'RE—" Edie pressed her hand over his mouth and swung him against the barn door, out of sight. She pinned his knees and an elbow to the wood, shushing him in vain. "You're going out with—"

"We are not going out. He asked me on an—outing."

"An outing!"

"Quit that. I'd rather be having dinner with you, but Hajule—"

Jamie's eyes illuminated again, and he blew a kiss toward his house. "Oh, bless my sweet mother!"

"Stop. You need to talk to her about your plans. She and Larmie are leaving—"

"He remembered Dia's name!" Jamie whispered again, bouncing under her monstrous grip. "And he's helping you—"

"He remembered Dia's name because I said it but a few moments ago, and nothing more." She held up her free hand, pointing intently at his nose. "And if anything more, then because he's a Scout with an impeccable memory, something you should work on developing, such as the memory that your mother does not like being kept waiting!"

He couldn't free himself but grabbed her pointing hand; he slipped his fingers in and kissed the back of her hand. "Please, please, please remember our promise."

"Which one?" She answered dryly.

"You know." Jamie got his freedom and hurried toward the house, whispering as he went. "Like, if he doesn't ask, then you're absolved, but—"

"Jamie!"

"Have a great time!"

The captain reappeared a few moments later, with Dia towering over his shoulder and nudging affectionately. "He's excitable."

Edie took the reins and climbed on the saddle. "All he's talked about for the last few weeks is Commander Erwin and Captain Hange, and all they taught him. I can't say Hajule's appreciated it."

"No, I suppose not."

"Well, thank you." She patted Dia's neck, who stared with envy at the captain's coat pocket. "For getting my horse ready."

"Of course."

They started riding, opposite Wall Sina, where she'd guessed their outing would end. Any man looking to impress typically shoots the best shot, especially after recent rejection. Surely a glamorous city, even the capital city, would offer the best in entertainment, food, and sights. Then again, perhaps a Scout would better appreciate sunsets on a hill, sipping tea and eating bread and cheese. Or perhaps this was just a long horse ride, and the 'worth your while' would kick in after forty years of long life. Too bad she didn't intend on living that long.

Nearly half an hour passed, riding in open, rolling fields, before she acknowledged the rider to her right. "You were saying?"

"What?"

"Before Jamie interrupted. Something about time?"

"Oh." He gently guided his steed closer to hers, where they were only a foot apart, boots nearly touching. "I know this time is precious for families. Especially since Jamie's joining the Scouts, you don't know if he'll be alive next year. It's important to spend time together, to have memories to cherish or harken back to."

"You'd think it was an objective thing, the way you tell it." Edie nearly laughed. "Surely your family was terrified when you first joined. How were they to know you'd be so good at your work?"

"It wasn't so difficult." He stared ahead. "My mother died when I was seven or eight, and I never knew my father."

She looked at him with softer eyes. "No other family? Uncles, aunts, grandparents?"

He shook his head. "There's too many bastards in the Underground to count. Down there, you've got your mom and little else. God help you if you're left alone."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's easier for us who don't have people to disappoint. There's nothing to lose."

"Sure there is." Edie's eyes fell to her reins. "There's nothing to go home to. It's terribly, no matter how much you like being alone."

"We get used to being alone. The ranks change every year, with new faces and ideas."

"Still miserable. You said so yourself. What's the point of saving humanity if there's none left over for the soldier?"

"Yet execution is an order for the deserter."

"Or the Garrison. Jamie says the latter is worse."

That, strangely, earned a laugh.

Dia set the pace, still struggling after the exertion from several months ago. They rode on, with some bursts of conversation in otherwise monotone voices, supplemented with long moments of quiet appreciation. Edie told him about Jamie and Kikoi had a tearful makeup, complete with long, improvised speeches about humanity and protecting what little we had left, supplemented with Jamie's hypothesis about life outside the walls. The captain told her about Hange's escapades earlier that week in the research division, experimenting with explosives and their effectiveness against titans. All in all, there were poor results—the explosives achieved mass destruction, but not deep destruction—key in killing a titan. The description tugged at some deep, humorous memory, but Edie stayed in the moment.

Almost without warning, they approached their destination. It was like she looked down to laugh and clear her eyes, then looked up to see Wall Rose from a startlingly short distance. And they rode closer, until they stopped their horses at the base, dismounted, and tied them to a post.

"Here," the captain said. He took two lengths of rope out of his bag, and they walked a hundred paces to a thin metal ladder scaling the wall. He began looping knots expertly, attaching one to his waist, around one shoulder and leg. "See?"

Edie took her length but paused. "We're going up there?"

He nodded, betraying no emotion.

"Has the military confiscated your ODM gear?"

"I'd rather you were fluent before using ODM for recreational purposes."

"Speaking of purposes, this ladder is in the middle of nowhere."

The captain pointed to the top of the wall, where two Garrison troops waved at them and walked away. "For emergency purposes, when members are far from an elevator. And those gentlemen owed me a favor. They're vacating the premises for the next half hour."

"Fantastic." Edie quickly tied the rope in a similar fashion, though she went around the opposite thigh. Her skirt hiked high, and the captain turned his eyes. "And this catches on the rungs?"

He nodded. "No risk of falling to your death."

"Smart."

So Jamie had a record, she counted the rungs as they climbed, estimating a foot or so in between each one. He stayed a few rungs ahead of her the whole time, looked down often, nodding at her close presence, and continuing. At a hundred and seventy-two, she put her hand up and found no more metal, only dusty plaster. She raised her eyes, took the captain's free hand, and rolled onto the wall's top. She untied the rope with nearly numb hands and scooched carefully to the tracks, which vibrated softly. Then, it was safe to look.

Golden hour.

The landscape went on for miles and miles, with spots of small trees and forests of huge ones, incomparable to the small one bordering their farm. She could practically feel the soft breeze pushing their leaves around as huge gusts threatened to throw the two to their deaths. Glistening, swaying streams filtered water downstream and fed the small, vacant farmhouses which dotted the fields. Emerald grasses mixed with lime ones, and sun-kissed yellow buttercups surrounded well-trod paths. A few ponds reflected wispy clouds and orange skies, saying good-night to the expanse above. Soon, they'd reflect countless stars, though she knew they didn't have time for that.

Well, I was right about one thing. He's a sucker for sunsets.

Yet moaning predators threatened the paradise. She scooted to the edge of the wall, feet dangling, and stared at the titans below, who noticed and reached for her feet, a mere seventy feet above their fingers. Their eyes widened, and even with hands splayed on the concrete, she could feel something vibrating, yearning and groaning, but the titans below made their dissent known.

"Hundreds of thousands of people used to live here," she rasped. "Most of them are dead."

The captain took a seat next to her, much more nonchalant with his movements. "The attack took us by surprise. Everyone disputes whether or not they were intelligent, and I wasn't there personally, but knowingly or not, they cost humanity dearly." He gazed at the view. "Not to mention, it's impossible to look at any horizon now without thinking of them."

"Don't look there, then."

"People don't think about the walls as a reason for becoming a soldier, but it's incandescent being up here, with the whole world spread before you. It's ridiculous to join the Church, but with this much glory, it's hard to dispute. They're above anyone else, even the titans. What happens here stays here."

"So get on with it."

The captain sighed, then met her eyes. "You ought to enjoy this, at least, to be worth your while. I wouldn't spoil this for the world."

"And I'd rather you didn't sit on the edge of the world with a weight on your chest." She looked back at the horizon. "Don't worry. I'll block out any unpleasantness if I need to."

"Fine." He stared forward, too. "I know you don't have amnesia."

"Oh?"

"I know the signs. People who truly lose their memory to the extent you claim have trouble creating new memories, as well as stare off into the distance for long periods of time, just trying to recall." He shifted a little. "I've known a few Scouts who lost short periods of their memory, and it was quite noticeable. Besides, I've…tried to do that myself."

Edie's eyes glazed over. "How'd it go?"

"A gruff old man explained all I just explained to you. Don't worry, it's nothing an untrained eye will pick up, or even a trained eye without prompting."

"You were prompted?"

"Yes. I was…bothered."

"How so?" Her hands clenched the corner, nearly crumbling some of the plaster just from her grip.

He noticed. "You don't need to be nervous. I won't tell a soul."

"Why?"

"I trust you have good reason."

"You don't know me."

"Which is…what bothers me." He put his hand over hers, relaxing both and calming the trembles. "In the Scouts, we trust one another intrinsically. We have to. Everyone's lives are on the line, and no matter how it turns out, we work as one unit and follow orders. We trust our superiors, even knowing that if our lives are sacrificed, it was for a greater purpose, and it will matter. Most people have never had a bond that strong and have trouble understanding it, much less pledging their lives to it. Honestly, it leads to more deaths than you'd think, even battling titans."

"Like people going off on their own, or sparking dissent."

"Exactly. If there's no trust, there's death."

"So why are you bothered?"

"Because I trust you. I hardly know you, yet I trust you."

"Captain—"

"We don't make many friends, due to brutal honesty. People like to cover up the truth to make people feel better and avoid confrontation, but that doesn't lead to actual peace, much less closure. Coming from where I did, I don't…talk to people outside the Scouts. I don't have friends, much less relationships, and I never planned on being involved with anyone in the Scouts, either. Too much risk involved."

"I…considered that."

"Yet every time we've spoken, I know you're being honest with me, someone you've only just met."

She stared at her knees for a moment, skirts billowing enough to show skin. "Except for badly faking memory loss."

"You're also willing to let the past die and bury it, however you need to. We get too caught up with mistakes and holding people to their wrongs, enough that it leads to more death and discord." He removed his hand and averted his eyes suddenly. "Honesty isn't sharing every minute detail, but being open with people, regardless of the personal cost. It's incredibly rare, even among the Scouts.

"I know I'm not a pleasant person, and unsociable. I work long hours and have brief periods of reprise before life-threatening missions. Not to mention the hordes of funerals."

"At least you've got excellent style." Edie surveyed his suit again.

"And I know you mean that."

"I do."

"I wanted to be more forthright, both with my reasons and…intentions. But if yours haven't changed, then I know you'll be upfront about it." The captain met her eyes again. "Would you go out with me?"

Edie had thought it would be an impossible sentence to croak, betraying all the compliments about honesty he'd just bestowed upon her. Granted, the openness about amnesia could've been a driving force, and considering Jamie's threats, she had no other choice. But it was a perfectly truthful answer to give.

"Yes, gladly."