Chapter 2: What's the Truth?

Zeke Jaeger's terms sounded simple enough. Grant him asylum on Paradis and let him meet Eren in exchange for information, technology, weapons, and protection.

While his true intentions remained hidden, what they learnt during the assembly in Mitras left no doubt that the man had what was needed to guarantee Paradis' safety: royal blood and the power of the titans. As Eren saw fit to reveal only when the military government expressed understandable distrust, and more than half a year after having made the discovery, the one time he had activated the coordinate had been after touching Dina Fritz, Zeke's mother and Grisha's first wife. A pure titan with royal blood.

The answer the Survey Corps had been looking for all along; how they could circumvent the first king's war-renouncing vow and use the Founding Titan to activate the titans inside the Walls. To defend themselves, or, in Eren's words, to crush their enemies.

Trusting Zeke and his Anti-Marleyan Volunteers would be foolish. Yet, they had no choice but to take the risk and cooperate with them while exercising caution; it was their best, first, and only chance at long-term survival, for now.

After Hange had managed to convince the government to let them proceed as planned, the group of Scouts who had made the long trip to the capital set off again. They recuperated at a modest military base in Ehrmich, for the night. At the first light of day, they'd head for Shiganshina, and the day after, for the sea, once again.

The commander and Squad Levi gathered around a table in the mess hall, now awkwardly quiet after the hustle and bustle of dinnertime.

"Explain yourself, brat," was all Levi said to Eren, starting a conversation long overdue.

Even Armin and Mikasa, sitting next to their childhood friend, looked unsure and out of their depth. Eren hadn't even told them, Nora was certain after one glance.

Despite his apologetic words, Eren didn't sound like he was sorry for keeping such a vital information secret as he explained his concern for Historia's wellbeing, had he said something.

With his dark-brown hair rather short, again—both him and Armin had cut their hair after the Survey Corps' first trip to the sea—he looked older, any lingering childish roundness of his features gone. All soldiers of the former 104th Cadet Corps that made the bulk of the Special Ops squad had matured, Nora realised with a jolt. They had grown. Of course, they had; their occupation made it easy to forget how young some of their comrades were. And while Levi, Nora, and Hange—save for maybe losing an eye or changing a hairstyle—hadn't changed at all, those teenagers were almost adults, now.

Which brought Nora to yet another realisation, this one stinging more than the first: She'd known her 'new' squad mates for longer now than her old ones. That was how long Petra and the others were gone, already. Thinking about them still hurt, an invisible scar that tugged deep within her chest, no matter how much had happened since then. The only constants throughout her entire time as a Scout were the two people she was currently sitting in-between; one her best friend, the other… something she lacked a fitting description for.

She could only hope her luck, if one could call it that, held.

"Look, you maniac," Jean spoke up, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leaned back in his chair, "your concern is touching and all, but not trusting any of your squad mates, the captain, and the commander with this information wasn't the way to go about it."

Eren barely stirred, his severe, teal eyes darting around the table, looking at each of his closest comrades in turn. Truly, he had matured, inside and out, and it filled Nora with a sense of unease she couldn't explain.

"I don't know what will happen to us, how many more will have to die, how the hell we're supposed to beat our enemies other than trampling them all down," he said, very deliberately, his voice tinged with the ever-present undercurrent of anger—one thing that hadn't changed. "But I know what would have happened to Historia had I said anything. I refuse to sacrifice any of my friends; that includes all of you. But now, things are different. If Zeke is willing to work with us, we might be able to—"

"We might lose our biggest hope, and they might gain their biggest weapon, and exactly what they've been after all along," Nora said. "You, Eren. And if Zeke betrays us and gets his hands on you, they're gonna have you eaten in no time." Mikasa flinched, her dark eyes glued to Eren as Nora continued talking. "We can't just assume all our problems would be solved with one touch, and then we can 'trample them all down' and be done with the war, simple as that. We have no clue how this shit even works with a royal-blooded, sentient shifter. Dina was a braindead, pure titan, after all. We'll have to be extra careful, and we'll have to trust each other. So, stop making every decision on your own, and let us protect you, same as you're protecting us. No one can accomplish everything on their own, right?" she finished, her last sentence a reminder of something she had overheard him say, a day before the Battle of Shiganshina. It had proven to be true, then.

His expression turned contemplative rather than angry, and when he opened his mouth, he didn't argue, but instead asked her, "Back at the honouring ceremony, when you touched Historia's hand… Did you see anything from Bertolt's past?"

She frowned, caught off guard. "No. It happens mostly when I dream. And it's usually annoying, useless stuff." She glanced at Levi when she felt his piercing stare at her temple. He shook her awake often enough, whenever her sleep was particularly restless.

"What did you see, Eren?" Hange asked, intent.

"Just memories, again. Useless, like Nora said. But a lot of them. A whole bunch of memories from my old man, and Kruger, and flashes and glimpses from others holding the Attack Titan before them. It's always been the same, over and over. Humanity has always been the same." He shook his head, not bothering to elaborate further on this, a joyless grin spreading on his face. "But my father had given up on revenge, and on the Eldian restorationists. If the Wall hadn't been breached, he would have been content to live out his days in peace like cattle in a pen; with my mother, Mikasa, and me." His hand, resting on the table, drew into a fist. "He even hesitated before he attacked the Reiss family. He didn't wanna do it. In the end, he only did it because he knew his family wouldn't stand a chance, otherwise. He didn't give a shit about freedom, anymore. He didn't give a shit about anything outside the Walls. And look where that got him, and where that got his family." Eren's features hardened. The short silence that followed felt oppressive. "But I'm not like him. No one of us is, right? We'll fight for our freedom, and if someone wants to take it from us, we shouldn't hesitate taking theirs, first."

#

Eren could see memories from Attack Titans preceding his dad. Aside from his anger-fuelled determination that only seemed to grow the deeper they got caught up in this damnable war, that detail stood out to Nora. After all, she had never seen any memories other than Bertolt's, her immediate predecessor. Yet another thing they had only limited knowledge about, and certainly not one of the more important issues to ponder.

Besides, there was a more pressing matter currently on her mind.

With freshly refilled cups of tea before them, she and Levi remained alone in the mess hall after everyone else had left. She was overcome with a sense of nostalgia; once, this had been the main circumstance for occasional one-on-one tea sessions, and now, they were part of their daily routine and mostly held in a more private setting.

He was frowning at his cup, fingers on the brim, deep in thought. Though their argument back in Shiganshina followed by his usual half-a-night of sleep had sufficed to cool his temper and let their dispute rest, there hadn't been much time to talk with him alone. Much unlike Eren, working with Zeke Jaeger must be the last thing Levi would want to do, if he had any choice. And yet, he'd taken the news with his usual stoicism, not letting on anything.

But Nora knew the man behind the stony façade too well, and so, after contemplating how to best broach the subject and coming up with nothing, she asked, "Are you… alright?"

He looked up at her, his frown deepening. She couldn't fault him for it; it was not by a long stretch anything they'd usually ask the other, and the question seemed rather superfluous, given the context.

"Tsk." He took a sip from his tea. "Why wouldn't I be? Given all we learnt, our chances of survival might even have become the tiniest bit less shitty. Our first visitors from Marley, and things haven't gotten worse, at the very least. No one on our side has died—not even you, and not for a lack of trying. That's a reason to celebrate."

Despite the unnecessary jab at her, a weak smile crept on her face at his sardonic reply. It faded almost immediately, and she gave up her pitiful attempt at tact and insisted, "You saw what Zeke did to all our comrades. And Erwin was your friend." Levi's expression darkened, but she pressed on regardless. "And now we might be forced to work with that sadistic arsehole, which is bound to make you feel—"

"If that bearded shit doesn't prove himself to be useful, I'll kill him. If he betrays us, I'll kill him. If his offer turns out to be genuine for whatever reason—and that's unlikely as hell—I'll kill him as soon as we don't need him, anymore. He's very close to the end of his thirteen-or-so years. Suppose there really is no death curse—and I'd sure like to see proof of that—he'll be nothing more than a liability once he loses his powers. However this shit plays out, I am going to kill him, in the end, so I don't give a damn about the specifics." His eyes were hard and cold as he finished his point-blank evaluation, every single word nothing but the unadorned, harsh truth.

It probably shouldn't be reassuring, but here she was; as fucked-up as him, as fucked-up as their world. If there was one thing Nora dared rely on, it was Levi's word.

"Okay, I get it. You're alright." That was what she got for asking Levi how he was feeling, she thought wryly. Well, she had got more of an answer than she had expected. It must have cost him some effort not to sprinkle in a single insult directed at her, the questioner.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked her, a frustrated edge to his voice and impatience written all over his tense features.

"Just appreciating your pragmatic thinking."

The stern line of his brows softened almost imperceptibly. "Nutcase." There was no bite or maliciousness behind the word. It might as well have been a pet name, by now; among other things, he'd been calling her this for almost as long as they'd known each other, and it had taken Nora longer than she cared to admit to realise he used that particular term exclusively on her. But ever since she had, her heart beat faster each time he said it.

"You're beyond help," he told her.

"I know," she said, captivated by the humorous glint in his steel-grey eyes; a warm, fluttering sensation upsetting the pit of her stomach. And if even a hint of her inner turmoil was showing on her face, she really didn't want to know.

Whatever Levi could read from her expression was enough for him to avert his gaze after a few seconds of silence, empty of words but full of meaning. He finished his tea, holding the cup in that ever-same, uniquely weird way of his; fingers on the brim, palm covering most of its opening. Watching his peculiar behaviour never ceased to entertain her.

Why was she so obsessed with all his little quirks and mannerisms? And how did she sense that for once, it seemed she had managed to make him uncomfortable, not the other way round?

He set down the cup, cleared his throat, stood. "Right, then. I'm gonna have a few words with four-eyes."

"Can I—"

"No, brat. You're done for today," he cut her off, being his usual, bossy self again. "It's just about organisational shit, anyway." Without so much as another glance at her, Levi crossed the distance to the door in brisk, purposeful strides. He paused at the threshold just long enough to add, in a softer voice, "I won't be long."

#

"What a load of rubbish." Without glancing away from the book propped open in her lap, Nora reached for the teacup on the bedside table and took a generous sip. Reading in bed in nothing but her shirt and knickers—there was hardly anything more freeing than getting rid of shoes, bra, and trousers after a strenuous day, and in that order—might be one of her favourite pastimes, but she usually preferred her literature less… repetitive.

Why had she expected reading material from a Marleyan military ship to be any better than the outrageous fairy tales the people inside the Walls had called 'history books' not long ago?

The title—The Rise and Fall of the Eldian Empire—had seemed so promising. Turned out, it only showed potential usefulness in a drinking game. Had she taken a shot of liquor every time she encountered the word "devils", she would already have died of alcohol poisoning, her titan regeneration notwithstanding.

Now Nora wished she had gone for the cheesy romance novel one of the Marleyan soldiers must have brought on board.

The door in the adjacent office leading into the captain's quarters opened, and fell shut. Levi's grumbling preceded him, and she looked up right as he appeared in the doorframe to the small bedroom.

"I told you hundreds of times already that you should put your goddamned shoes in the rack over there, not leave them lying around in the middle of the room." He glared at her as he closed the door behind him.

Oh, right. Nora vaguely remembered kicking them off, her mind already on the reading waiting for her, and then… nothing. She must have forgotten. "Whoops," she said.

His disgruntled gaze travelled from her face, over her rumpled blouse, to her white knickers and bare legs. "You messy brat with your ridiculously tiny feet." By the time he had arrived at said body part with his scrutiny, something in his expression had shifted, woken up; the angry glint in his eyes turning… predatory.

"What did you expect? I'm not exactly tall." She shrugged, maintaining an appearance of nonchalance despite her quickening pulse, turning a page of her disappointing book.

"I expected someone with a brain like yours would be capable of remembering something so simple." The lowered, darkly promising tone of Levi's voice made her look up, again.

He stood at the tail end of the bed, now. Without warning, he grabbed her ankles and pulled, dragging her down and away from the pillow. It happened so fast she could do nothing but squeak in surprise, and the stupid book fell from her hands, remaining somewhere on the mattress above her.

Levi stopped when she reached the edge of the bed in front of him, just before she'd land with her arse on the floor. He went to his knees, her legs now dangling off the bed on either side of him. His gaze was outright dangerous, igniting that infuriating and familiar mix of indignation and desire within her.

"That was totally uncalled fo-oh—" Nora's protest was cut short when his hand trailed along her inner thigh, stopping at the crease, stroking there softly. Heat spread over her skin in tingling waves with every little motion of his fingers. His thumb toyed with the seam of her underwear, just shy of touching her where she craved it most.

Occasionally, he would graze her clothed softness just the tiniest bit—her breathing growing more erratic each time—as if on accident. Yeah, right. The bastard never did anything on accident, and if his watchful, steely eyes on her face were any indicator, neither did he, now.

"But then, I shouldn't be surprised," Levi said huskily, continuing their conversation as if there'd never been an interruption. "You seem easily distracted."

That was one way to put it. Nora was on edge already, hot and strung up tight all over, her core clenching and throbbing at his delicious, torturous, almost-but-not-quite-there caresses. She was about to fling several select swearwords at him, but her breath left her throat in a voiceless, shaky exhale when he replaced his hand with his mouth.

He kissed the crease of her thigh, brushed his lips over the damp cloth at her crotch. His hot breath seeped through her knickers, and she shuddered, her limbs growing weak. Unable to keep still any longer, she tried inching closer, or away, or anything to end this torment, really, but at the first sign of stirring, Levi brought a hand to her hip, holding her in place. The pace of his exhalations against her tender flesh covered by the thin fabric had quickened, making everything so much better and worse. If not for his laboured breathing, nothing would have hinted that he was in any way affected by what he was doing to her. Calculating as his steady gaze was, however, it was anything but cold as he continued to torment her with the lightest touches of his lips.

"Damn you… You're such a tease." Her voice was too high and thin. "You're driving me mad."

"I have to pay you back somehow," Levi murmured between her thighs, the tantalising movement of his mouth doing to her exactly what she had prophesied. She wasn't sure if he was talking about the shoes or something else, and she had no chance to ask, because he lifted her knee over his shoulder and hooked his thumb underneath the cloth aggravating her aching centre, pulled it aside, and gave her a single, languid lick.

For a brief moment, she saw nothing but white. Liquid fire shot through her veins. "Ohshitfuck," she gasped out.

Nora felt a low, rumbling, appreciative sound drawing from his throat, and when his tongue darted out again to caress her hot, swollen flesh, her elbows gave out beneath her and she sank back into the mattress.

He was done playing, but he wasn't nearly done torturing her. Every motion light and languorous, he teased her with soft, wet swirls of his tongue, circling the very centre of her pleasure, and dipping inside her; tasting her until she knew only that she'd left sanity far behind. Soon, so soon, he had her whimpering and moaning and stammering incoherently.

And she was on the brink, the very brink, and she'd tumble and fall or fly straight into oblivion if he only showed some mercy and finally gave her more of this, more pressure, more of him, gave her what she needed—

It was then Levi's perfect, maddening mouth retreated, and her moan turned into something embarrassingly close to a sob, and she was desperate and quivering and just about ready to either strangle him or do whatever he asked of her, anything at all.

Before she could even muster the energy to glare at him, let alone speak, he got on top of her, hefting her further up the mattress, pinning her beneath his body—solid and hot and still too damn dressed—so that she couldn't so much as squirm against him. Their gazes locked, and as she took in his beautiful features, so unfathomably close, his expression hard and heated and intense, she asked herself, not for the first time, how it was possible to want anything, anyone, this much. Always, again and again, even if the world came crashing down on them; which it was, which it would.

She dove her hands into his hair and tried to draw him down to kiss him, but he resisted, and if he resisted, there was no way to win. Instead, he withdrew just enough to pull off her thoroughly drenched knickers, at long last. Levi didn't bother with her blouse. When her hands went to the waistband of his trousers, he caught her wrists, securing both of them above her head in a firm, one-handed hold. Nora let out a small, high-pitched sound of utter frustration that was as little in her control as everything else that had to do with this man.

Unmoved by her obvious distress, his free hand delved between her legs, softly stroking and teasing once more, and even though her eyes fluttered shut at the delicious, tantalising sensation, she was aware with every inch of her overheated body—burning and raging with desire—that he was watching her every reaction.

He shifted a bit, and the hardness of him against her thigh, the undeniable proof of his own passion, was the last straw.

"Levi…" His name came out as something between a growl and a whimper, the syllables infused with impatience.

"What?" If his voice hadn't been so raspy, it might have sounded bored.

"You know what," Nora managed to bite out between gasps.

"I'm not sure," he said, feigning ignorance. "All I know is I've got a stubborn, messy brat in front of me refusing to talk." His tone was steady and casual, if somewhat breathless.

"Arsehole."

He seemed not at all displeased by her reaction, judging by the way the corners of his lips drew into a slight smirk. She wriggled in his grasp. It was useless. He continued his torture, his hooded, steely eyes alight. Whenever her breathing became dangerously erratic, he would slow down and ease off a bit, the touch of his fingers growing lighter, until she wondered how it was possible to simultaneously be so immensely frustrated and aroused. Lust coiled low in her abdomen, hot and heavy like molten lead.

What the hell was he waiting for? He had paid her back plenty, already, hadn't he?

Her desperation built and built until she couldn't take it anymore. "Dammit, will you just fuck me already?"

The iron grip around her wrists tightened reflexively. His eyes went darker, jaw clenching. In answer, he slid a finger inside her, oh so slowly, each tormenting caress of his hand deliberate, sending jolts of excruciating pleasure along her nerves, and the sounds she was making now were beyond embarrassing, and if she didn't get him soon, she would surely explode—except he wouldn't let her.

"Please," she groaned, long and drawn-out, mindless with desire.

That, it seemed, did the trick. Above her, Levi exhaled sharply against her lips, eyes squeezing shut for a brief second, and when he opened them again, the calculating glint of the infuriating, adamant control he had exerted over himself was gone—as if a barrier had been lifted—replaced by unrestrained greed that almost had her lose it.

As he deftly worked his trousers open with one hand—yes, please, finally—he brought his lips to her ear, murmuring, "If we had the time, I would make you curse at me and beg me all day long."

Before she had any chance to recover from the statement, he pushed forward, insinuating himself deep inside her pulsating heat.

The climax that hit her near instantly was inevitable and shattering in its intensity. Her body arched up against his, taking him in even deeper, and his lips closed over hers as a low, guttural groan was wrenched from his throat, and there was that sweet, delirious mercy; he did as she had pleaded and fucked her, steady surges of overwhelming ecstasy coursing through her in sync with his deep thrusts.

"Fucking insane," he groaned into her mouth once her trembling and uncontrolled moaning eased a little, as if this wasn't utterly his doing, or maybe exactly because of it.

And he still wouldn't relent, moving inside her at an uncompromising pace, fanning the flames of passion within her before they had any chance to dwindle, still clamping her wrists even as she struggled to break free so she could touch him, feel him, hold him close. Levi didn't seem to notice her futile efforts.

She was left entirely at his mercy, just as it had always been.

But maybe he was a little at hers, too, with how his movements were growing more frantic and uncontrolled, how he was placing feverish, open-mouthed kisses all over her exposed skin; on her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, her cheeks, her lips again.

Something in her chest swelled, glowing hot and bright and radiating into every last crevice of her being, and she wanted to tell him but there were no words, and she wanted to pull him under with her as she was drowning in it, and never let go.

"Let me touch you," Nora demanded, desperate, and his stormy eyes met hers. They were unfocused and wild and glazed over, and understanding registered with a short delay.

Levi let go of her hands, then, and they seemed to seek out his skin of their own accord; delving beneath his shirt and running over the ridges of his abs, clutching the hard muscle of his back. He shivered at her touch, their rhythm breaking, then picking up.

And then he was kissing her again, filling her with his taste and scent, and reaching down with one hand to where they were joined, caressing her with circling motions of his fingertips, firm and demanding, and Nora knew they would go down together, this time, just as she had wished.

When they did, it was impossible to say who started their mutual descend, but it ended in a swirl of heat and bliss and moans and swears. And when it was over, they were both still shaking, bathing in the afterglow of glorious sensation, and panting into each other's mouths.

Once her mind started working, again, she struggled to comprehend how physical closeness could feel this raw and intimate, especially considering the fact she remained half-clothed, and he was almost fully dressed—which wasn't usually the case whenever things got heated between them. This time, apparently, the bastard had had enough patience to drive her to insanity, but couldn't muster the few extra seconds to get rid of their clothes.

"You're the worst," Nora told him, still short of breath.

"No, you," was all he mumbled back. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, boneless and heavy above her, silent save for his slowly calming exhalations. She threaded her fingers into the sweat-dampened hair at his temples, once again marvelling at its deep, true-black colour, contrasting his rather pale skin. Not a hint of brown warmed the strands, and not a single grey strand was to be found. When she drew her hands through the soft strands, fingertips running over his scalp until they came to rest at the stubble of his undercut just above the nape of his neck, Levi lifted his head, watching her with half-closed, serious eyes. Nora almost asked him what he was thinking, but refrained from it because it would be useless; if he wanted to tell her, he would do so unprompted.

And had she been capable of telling him what she was thinking, she would have.

"Sorry about the shoes," she said after a while.

One corner of his mouth curled while his brows furrowed. "You're a shit liar."

When her lips stretched into a sheepish, languorous grin, he kissed her.