When Mikasa and Eren finally make their way to the Palace, the first thing they do is ask for a bath. Neither of them had been particularly clean after the fall of Shiganshina those many years ago, but the filth now accumulated on their bodies is unlike any they had experienced before.
The destruction Mikasa returned to when she first arrived on the island weeks ago was no worse than she expected, but the Titan dust that thickened the air came as a surprise to her. It permeated the atmosphere, shrouding the sky in darkness, and settling over the rubble like a powdery blanket of snow. Even with her scarf wrapped protectively over her face, she could taste ash and grit with every rattled inhalation she took.
While still in shambles, the capital appeared to be in better condition. The worst of the debris had been cleared, along with the bodies that were crushed beneath it. There was no sound but the howling of the wind, no color but the grey clouds and the brown dirt, and no sign of life, human or otherwise, for miles on end. Even though he'd told her otherwise, she was half afraid that she and Eren were the only two living things left on this Island, and the only proof of past life would be the stains of death that remained.
Mikasa had never known the full extent of his powers; she still didn't, even now. He'd only told her enough so that when he unceremoniously went to that mysterious place in his mind for the final time, she'd believed him when he said the titans were truly gone . Using the power of the Founding Titan, he'd fulfilled the vow he'd made to the world after the death of Carla Yeager. By whatever means necessary, the titans were erased from existence, never again to cast their great and terrible shadow over the world.
She believes that with time, it will be as if they were never there at all.
Just like her own abilities. The power of the titan's personified.
The inevitability of losing them was strange to grasp still, and when it first happened, she felt nothing other than an abstract sense of wrongness . She thought it simply the knowledge that caused this sensation at first, but slowly, she found herself experiencing things that she never had before.
Her muscles ache far worse than they ever had, and for far longer too. Small wounds that would normally heal after a night of troubled sleep, such as blisters and scratches, instead pained her for days on end—sometimes even weeks. Her stamina was pitiful when compared to what had been before, and at one point she had even needed to ask Eren to stop completely, so that she could regain her strength.
Mikasa suspects, however, that the bone-deep fatigue that follows her would have been there regardless of any supernatural abilities she'd once possessed.
She wastes little time dressing following her bath, and she navigates the familiar palace halls to the war room. The guards that led her and Eren to their rooms when they arrived were nowhere to be found, and when she goes to Eren's adjacent quarters, she finds them empty. In fact, as she continues to her destination, she finds that the entire Palace is empty. Gone are the harried staff making sure the candles are lit, and the marble floors are kept free of dust. If there weren't before, there are certainly now far more pressing matters to attend to.
Reaching the end of the once opulent hall, Mikasa opens the heavy wooden doors, where she finds Historia and Eren speaking in hushed tones despite their isolation. The Queen's delicate blonde brow is marred with concern, her hand placed gently on Eren's own, while Eren is looking blankly at the stone table before him. Historia's speech falters as she notices Mikasa's approach, and Eren's eyes do not move from their disinterested examination of the intricately carved surface. The lack of acknowledgement does not bother Mikasa; after weeks of travel, she has grown accustomed to Eren's withdrawn presence.
As Mikasa gets closer, Historia does not hesitate to reach for her. Her grip is firm on Mikasa's shoulders, and her bright eyes are looking searchingly into her own.
"Are you okay?" they ask
Mikasa has no answer for her.
And she doesn't get the chance to provide one, either. Unfamiliar faces begin to trickle into the war room, and Mikasa takes her seat next to Eren. It still feels strange to see him, clean and dull and among others. It's like she's looking at a stranger, inhabiting his body.
He is still unlike his former self, though the haze in his eyes has cleared a bit. She does not know if it will ever be gone completely.
Mikasa does not hesitate as she takes one of his limp hands in her own. He jerks imperceptibly, and while his expression betrays no emotion, she can feel his grip slowly tighten as the seats around them fill. She feels a perverse satisfaction, knowing that despite everything, Eren needs her in this moment, as much as she does him. She strokes small circles against his palm, and the tension in his grip eases just slightly.
The mismatched newcomers draw her attention. Most of them are young and appear vaguely uncomfortable, but they all wear a grim determination on their faces that Mikasa can appreciate. She was debriefed upon her arrival, learning that many of the statesmen had been killed by Zeke's pure titans, and the engineers, agriculturists, and skilled laborers she sees before her now have been hand-selected by Historia for their experience to aid in the effort to rebuild Paradis.
Not that she had a great many options to choose from, Mikasa thinks.
"The people are troubled," Historia begins. "Despite weeks of silence, there are still whispers of Marley and the rest of the world, rising from the ashes, preparing to claim their vengeance in a torrent of bombs and even further destruction."
These impossible fears are ready to find their final resting place in Eren's words, and Historia turns to them to do the honors.
Needing no introduction, Eren provides a brief explanation of the events that occurred, and Mikasa pays careful attention to the expressions around her. Despite their inexperience in war-making, most of them manage to remain impassive at the spartan description of the slaughter Eren gives. Historia in particular seems unaffected, and Mikasa suspects that she may already have been aware of Eren's plans far before any of the others were.
This stings, knowing that he placed this confidence in Historia before herself, but she recognizes why.
He believed that Mikasa would be his enemy and was preparing himself to either kill her, or be killed by her. Strange, to think that the boy she would give her life freely for had been ready to take hers. She supposes he saw no point in making the task more difficult for himself by having Mikasa know.
Eren finishes, and there is an expectant pause. For a long moment, nobody seems to know what to say, but finally, a young man speaks up.
"It's as we hoped, then. Eldia has no more to fear from the outside aggressors, or titans for that matter, and can finally focus completely on healing within."
Again, there is an uncomfortable silence, but Historia quickly fills it.
"Yes. And to begin this healing, we will have to be swift in our efforts of reconstruction. We have already taken stock of our resources, population, and strategic production points that have been undamaged by the war. My counsel and I have devised a plan to clear out the remainder of the debris from these critical areas. Utilizing what we do have to continue providing provisions to the people, we have put together a task-force to apportion these to citizens further out of Mitras. Our initial efforts have been relatively successful, but now with this decisive news, we can fully devote our time to the Rebuilding."
"Additionally, we have retained a majority of the Marlyan intelligence we gathered over the previous years, and with this knowledge, we are at a good point to start introducing new technologies like..."
Mikasa tries her best to listen diligently to the detailed plan that Historia lays out, but her exhaustion begins to creep back up. It feels strange to discuss agricultural techniques and modern plumbing so soon after having to explain her and Eren's mass slaughter.
Still, the council members seem more comfortable with the change of topic. She doesn't blame them, of course, and she supposes that there would be no point dwelling on it, not when there is so much that needs to be done. And yet, years of titans and death and horror, all acknowledged and brushed aside in a single moment.
She knows she is not the only one hurting, but right now in this room, she selfishly feels she might be.
She glances at Eren, who has remained silent since his own brief words. His eyes are downcast, looking at their interlaced fingers, which have been brought to rest on the table for everyone to see. Despite their proximity, she hasn't touched him much these past weeks, and Eren has not seemed to need much consoling. But she likes the feel of his skin against hers, and the smell of soap that lingers on him from their bath.
Mikasa thinks they must look strange, like a pair of ghouls, with their sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. She knows they have both lost weight and muscle, after their weeks of travel on foot, with no access to horses, and the dust and sun did not spare their complexions any kindness. A small, mocking smile stretches across her face, though, when she thinks that most people probably aren't looking their best.
Just then, Queen Historia looks at Mikasa, and the grave look on her face deepens into a troubled one at Mikasa's strange amusement. She thanks the architect who is speaking and concludes the meeting by summarizing their objectives for the next few weeks.
Historia sees each counselor out personally, and Mikasa notices a particularly warm look given to the young man who spoke up initially. Mikasa realizes it must be her farmer, and it's then that she remembers that Historia's stomach is no longer swollen with child. She must have had her baby.
To think that amidst so much death, life was born anew.
When the last of the incongruous council is gone, the three are left alone once more. Mikasa and Eren have both stood up to leave, but Historia comes to them, her hands reaching out to grasp theirs.
With a hesitation that is at odds with the stately demonstration she just gave, she asks them carefully if they would like to meet her child. Just as Mikasa is about to refuse, Eren speaks up.
"Yes."
His eyes are the sharpest Mikasa has seen them in a long time, so she does nothing more than nod as Historia looks for her assent. They make their way to her royal apartments in a tepid silence. She can sense Historia still wishes to speak, as she shoots Eren and Mikasa furtive looks behind her shoulder, but she says nothing.
In these moments, Mikasa is reminded of a timid girl called Christa, who is not at all like the eloquent Queen who was just laying the framework to rebuild the colossal destruction that was her country.
They arrive at Historia's rooms, which are more modest than she expects. There is a threadbare carpet with two wooden chairs near the hearth, and the bed looks far less luxurious than she would think was befitting a queen. But it is clean and well-kept, and therefore precious in this time.
Eren and Mikasa linger near the fireplace as Historia goes to her infant from the adjoining room. A wet nurse comes out with her, and the woman, while docile, has a strange, dream-like expression on her face, like a defenseless child herself. Historia dismisses her with a kiss on the cheek, and the girl gives them a watery smile.
"Thank you, your Grace."
She sees herself out, and Mikasa wonders if the girl lost her own child amid the destruction.
Eren examines the small bundle that Historia has placed in his arms. He is sitting on one of the chairs, and holds the child stiffly in his grasp. The look of disquiet on his face is at odds with the peaceful expression of the sleeping babe.
Mikasa stands back, but peers at the baby from behind Eren. It's beautiful, with milky skin and delicate features. Mikasa cannot tell if it is a girl or a boy, and is embarrassed to ask.
"What is her name?" He asks.
"Ymir."
Eren seems disturbed by this, but says nothing. He only continues to study her with drawn brows.
Mikasa tries to imagine his thoughts. Does he look at this child he sacrificed the world for and ask himself if this small, insignificant, life was worth the price he paid? Does he regret his actions, or does the swaddled creature he spared from a brief and monstrous existence give him a sense of comfort, of peace?
She hopes that it does, because he could not take his actions back no matter how much they hurt him. And she has to believe, for her own sake, that they do.
Like she can hear her thoughts, Historia speaks in a gentle voice meant for Mikasa's ears only.
"Making the decision to spare Paradis must have been difficult for you," she says, still considering Eren and her child with a serene expression on her face.
Mikasa disagrees. She thinks that the decision came far too easily.
"But I believe that you made the right choice, Mikasa. I was prepared to sacrifice my own life to prevent that calamity, and even this child, who is the dearest thing to me in the world. The Titan curse, a few lives, in exchange for the world? It wasn't even a question to me when Eren revealed his plans for..."
The Rumbling.
"But ultimately, with time, I realized that it would not have been the solution to the problem of Eldia. It would have only temporarily staved off the inevitable. Their destructive technology would have caught up to the titan's power eventually, and all of Paradis would have been obliterated for sins that they could not remember, let alone make amends for."
Mikasa knows that the outside world would not have forgiven the atrocities of the past, especially not after their disastrous operation in Liberio. Even if the Rumbling was not initiated, Marley would have managed to rally the world behind its cause to vanquish Paradis once and for all. A partial Rumbling would not have been enough.
She knows that the Queen places the good of her people above the interest of a hostile world, and she even understands why. Mikasa would be lying if she hadn't thought of those same reasons herself, and maybe, if the others were alive, telling her the same thing, assuaging her mind with their cold logic, she could be convinced.
"This was the only way we could be truly free."
But the others are dead, and the validation comes too soon, because Mikasa knows she has not yet fully processed what has occurred, and either Historia sees Mikasa shut down at these last words, or is simply finished speaking, because she says no more.
They stand side by side until Eren carefully returns baby Ymir to her mother. When she asks Mikasa if she would like to hold the child, she refuses.
"Another time," she promises, though she doesn't truly mean it. She would be content to never see the girl again.
Historia doesn't press her, and Eren takes Mikasa's wrist firmly in his grasp before asking if they may be dismissed. The day has been a long one, and their exhaustion is visible.
"Please, Eren, don't seek my permission in this or any other thing that you may require," Historia says, her blue eyes earnest. "You are both free to remain in the palace for however long you wish. Don't think of anything other than building back up your strength."
"You have both paid your dues to Eldia, and have more than earned the right to some rest."
She says nothing, but Mikasa finds these words darkly amusing.
If their dues to Eldia are paid, she marvels to think what debts they have undoubtedly incurred against the memory of the world that they destroyed.
Whatever the amount, it must be pathetically unfair.
When they return to their adjacent rooms, Eren wordlessly follows into her own. She sees that there is food set out on the wooden table in the corner for both of them. They are humble rations of dried meat and stale bread, but the water is clean, and that is enough to fill her with gratitude.
She and Eren share their meal around the hearth in a familiar silence. The weather is cooling quickly, and Mikasa appreciates the warmth and comfort of her room. She sits facing the large window that provides a view of the smoldering city and sees people hobbling from their work in the castle back to their makeshift homes. She notices a few structures that look dangerously unsteady and makes a mental note of them. How absurd would it be to survive all that had come to pass, only to die from a collapsing building? She would have to do something about that.
Eren is quiet, looking out the at the smoldering rubble before them. Under the dying sunlight, it looks almost beautiful.
"Mikasa." he says, and she feels herself stiffen. She doesn't like the tone of his voice.
"What I told you and Armin wasn't true."
She inhales sharply. It's the first time she has heard her beloved friend's name since she spoke it herself, and it sounds strange, unfamiliar, coming from this imposter-Eren before her, with his calm voice and blank eyes.
"All of those things I said, about the Ackerman clan, their instincts… I made it up. To make it easier for the both of you to let me go."
And where mere months ago this confession would have filled her with the greatest relief, Mikasa now feels an acute, familiar pain in her temple. Somewhere in these past weeks she has grown to fully accept this new reality, the seismic shift in who she was, what she was, and it unburdened her, if only a little.
But she should have known that it couldn't be so easy. A slave with no will of her own would be free, in a way, that she was not. A slave wouldn't be responsible for the actions of her master, and she would have no reason to feel the guilt that threatened to consume her as it did now. A slave would not have felt the power she wielded over her own choices, as she did that day.
But to hear that dreaded truth come from his mouth brings on a new pain entirely. A devil knew, no matter how hard they tried to convince themselves, how well they convinced others, of the crimes borne from their own hands, their own minds.
"I know, Eren."
If he expects a different reaction, he does nothing to indicate so. She demands no further explanation, and he does not offer one either, so they continue to sit, side by side, looking into the fire, out the window, and finding no answers. Mikasa knows she should demand one, ask why ? why would you lie? how does that make any sense–?
But she does not want to know, not quite yet. She doesn't care if that fact makes her weak. The truth can wait, because she's had enough for tonight.
When he makes to leave she finds a flash of fear, primal and unwelcome, fills her. She can't stand the thought of being away from him, even if it's only down the room. His presence is a comfort to her, even when it brings her pain.
"Don't go. Stay with me."
A flicker of emotion crosses his features, but it quickly fades and his eyes return to the not-quite-dead things she has grown used to. She doesn't want that either, though, and she reaches for him with a desperation she tries not to feel. A despair that reminds her he is all she has left, that he destroyed everything else she cared about, and that she still needs him dearly.
"Please, Eren." She whispers, almost unheard under the crackling of the fire. She is begging but she does not care.
He doesn't acknowledge her for a moment, but when his eyes return to hers, she knows he will not leave her side. When the fog of sleep finally finds them, she takes him to her bed. They do not touch, but she can feel his warmth besides her.
She slips into a long, dreamless sleep.