Chapter 4: No Pressure

For the third time in a row, the bullet struck near the outermost ring instead of hitting the bullseye. Nora swore. How she missed her swords. But times had changed, their enemies had changed, and blades had become outdated—if you didn't happen to be the fastest and strongest person alive and single-handedly able to take on shifters, cutting them out of their nape before they could do more than blink. In that specific case, blades had their purpose for as long as people who could transform into titans fought on the enemy's side.

Not that Levi wasn't just as deadly with any other weapon. Still, it was best to leave the cutting to him.

"You'll never have good aim with that shitty grip." Kneeling down beside her, he leaned over and took her hands, businesslike, adjusting their position on the gun. "There," he said, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. Nora suppressed a shiver. "Now breathe in. Hold. Aim. Shoot. Breathe out. It's easy."

"Everything is easy for you," she hissed, struggling to keep a clear head in spite of his proximity. Fastening her gaze on the target, she did as he had instructed, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

And hit the ring closest to the centre. Drat. He really was annoyingly adept, even as a grouchy instructor.

"Better," Levi said, thoroughly unimpressed. He was still crouching next to her. "Keep that up, and there might be hope for you."

"Oh, fuck off," she muttered under her breath, glaring straight ahead, taking aim once more.

He stayed right where he was, murmuring into her ear, "And you're wrong, by the way, you crabby brat. Not everything is easy for me. Nothing about you is easy, for one." He sounded vaguely irritated.

This time, her shot missed by far. The bullet struck one of the trees behind the shooting range instead of the target.

"Cheers for that," Nora said, her voice as unsteady as her hands, glaring up at him. He had stood up, one corner of his lips quirked. The severe, intense look in his eyes did not indicate amusement, however.

Involuntarily, her gaze drifted to his neck. Seeing as nothing aside from target practice was on the plan for the squad on this hot summer day, the soldiers wore something airy and short-sleeved beneath their Survey Corps jackets. Which was why the love bite on Levi's neck was barely concealed by the collar of his jacket, and not at all by the grey T-shirt he had on underneath.

What she felt at the sight had nothing to do with guilt. A primitive sense of possessiveness flared in her chest, heating up her insides. Probably due to his half a week's absence, she might have gotten a bit carried away, last night. They both had, sooner rather than later, even though he had fought it so vehemently she'd practically heard the gears in his head turn.

Idiot.

Sleeping with him could never be anything but intense and raw and real. But there was something he held back whenever he was able to, refusing to let go of that last shred of control. Sometimes when they were together, he would be so perfectly, infuriatingly restrained she almost thought she had imagined that other version of him: as honest as ever, yet… more. Like a dam breaking, unleashing a flood of emotions usually bottled up and sealed airtight, neatly stowed away where they could do no harm, could not interfere with his business. That other version that was still undeniably him, blunt and uncompromising, but with the temperature cranked up. Levi minus the order in his brain, drawers pulled out and turned over, its contents spilling on the ground in a mess he was bound to hate, out there in the open.

Unhinged. Feral. Her undoing. Not to mention the things he'd say, every once in a while…

Such were the few times he had fallen down to her level. Every single one of them held a special place in Nora's memory, deeply ingrained in marvellous detail. So what if of those few times, he'd sometimes use more of his strength than strictly necessary; the way she grabbed him or kissed him or bit him was the last thing on her mind in instinct-driven moments like these, and Levi had not complained so far, so why should he have to put any conscious thought into every little movement?

Yesterday, she had ended up with several marks, and not only on her neck. In her case, they had already become a thing of the past. He might heal fast, but she healed faster. Nonetheless, he'd been conspicuously moody after the fact.

Sometimes, Nora wished she knew how to suppress her regeneration. She would never understand why on earth the fleeting imprints he sometimes left on her body in the throes of passion bothered him that much, when being with him, unguarded and uninhibited, no holds barred on either side, felt like… like—

Levi narrowed his eyes at something—no, someone—behind her. "What are you looking at? Keep practising."

It was quite obvious what Sasha, who was occupying the practice spot next to Nora, had glimpsed with her keen eyes; she averted them from the faint, purplish bruise on Levi's neck, her cheeks flaming red.

"Yes, captain! Sorry, captain!" she hastened to say, fumbling with her gun as she turned towards her target.

Of course, they wouldn't dare make their insinuations when he was present.

"I envy you." Laying the gun aside, Nora stood, stretching her limbs.

"What for?" Levi asked, his permanent frown back on her—pausing for the shortest moment at a point above her hips, where her shirt had ridden up. She suppressed a smirk; catching him looking at her like this in a public setting was a rare treat.

"They're still afraid of you," she explained. "At least somewhat."

"I don't see the benefit. Those brats are still a pain in the ass to deal with. Even worse than you."

She threw a punch at his upper arm; he intervened with ease, catching her fist in his hand. There was a humorous glint in his grey eyes that would have been invisible to everyone else in his otherwise indifferent expression. He kept his hold on her maybe a bit longer than necessary.

When he let go of her hand, a warm, prickling sensation lingered from his touch.

###

"What colour d'you reckon might be best?" Hange asked Levi, adjusting the strap of her eye patch. She really needed to find the time to get a better one; that damned thing chafed. "I was thinking black would—"

"Why should we change how it looks? The only thing that matters is upgrading the technology—which you've already been rambling on and on about for days. Anything else is useless and unnecessary." Putting down knife and fork, he took a sip of his tea, frowning at her.

Of course, Hange hadn't expected the old grump to react well to change of any sort; still, a little bit of constructive input would have been nice. After all, the man was a natural genius when it came to combat and battle strategy, with two decades' worth of experience to boot.

"It might give us an edge at night time. Besides, wouldn't it just look terrific?" She grinned, excitement fluttering in her chest as she pictured the new uniform in action; how hard they'd be to detect for anyone who didn't know their positions beforehand. Perfect for surprise attacks. Outnumbered and behind in the times as they were, they direly needed the element of surprise on their side. And the sturdier, clever design of the part-metal harnesses would provide better support while still being flexible enough to allow for even faster manoeuvring—

"Whatever. I don't give a shit." Levi wasn't looking at her, anymore; his stony gaze had fastened on a point near the door at the opposite end of the mess hall.

Hange didn't need to turn to see who had joined them for lunch. Every time Nora entered the room, his eyes would latch onto her and follow wherever she was going; no matter what he was doing or whom he was talking to. It was quite fascinating to watch, really. Like she was some sort of magnet, his antipole—though in every other regard, Hange definitely wouldn't consider them opposites. While their commonalities made for daily entertainment, their differences were often what made both of them invaluable comrades. With Nora, for instance, she was more likely to have an engaging exchange about new uniforms.

Usually, people would scram when she tried talking science with them. When talking science, you had to go into the nitty-gritty details; that was where the fun really started. So when you found someone willing to discuss those and bounce ideas back and forth, you gotta keep that person. Which was one of the reasons why Hange had decided they'd be buddies the day they had met. It had taken Nora a bit longer to notice, and even longer to admit it.

Levi only brought his attention back to his teacup once she had taken her usual seat next to him and across from Hange. The set of his shoulders relaxed, and he leaned back in his chair, turning vaguely in Nora's direction. Eyes on her meal, she took knife and fork while shifting a bit closer to him.

Neither of them seemed to notice what they were doing.

"Magnets," Hange muttered under her breath.

"What did you say?" Levi asked, eyes narrowing in distrust as he took in her smirk.

"Never mind." There were more pressing things to discuss, right now. She could and would tease them whenever she got bored. "Say, Nora… What do you say to black?"

Her friend knew immediately what she was referring to, bless her.

She chewed down her bite, thinking, eyes on the ceiling. "Would probably be a slight advantage on nightly missions."

Levi let out a small, indignant grunt just as Hange broke into a triumphant grin. "You get it."

Another decision down, a thousand or so more to go. Her smile faded together with her giddy excitement at the thought. Unfortunately, most of those decisions were a tad harder to make—with consequences she either couldn't possibly predict or didn't even want to consider. No pressure, though. Not like everything was a matter of life and death.

Oh, the joy of being the commander.

#

Visitors from the Far Eastern nation of Hizuru arrived within a fortnight after the port was completed. Their ambassador, Kiyomi Azumabito, seemed like a sensible, though unimaginative woman. Clearly, she had her priorities straight and wasn't prone to idealism—unlike the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers, if they were to believe. As much a politician as she was a businesswoman, her main interests coincided with those of her nation; and one of those interests, for a variety of reasons, was money.

Hizuru's predicament and Kiyomi's goal-oriented motivations left them no room for prejudice, making her a promising ally. Far from a benefactor, but it was a start. Paradis could offer what Hizuru wanted—unique, valuable resources, in particular their iceburst stone that powered the ODM gear—and apparently, not everyone in the world thought they were either doomed or irredeemable devils.

There must be some way to make good use of all this, right?

Erwin probably would have come up with a dozen different ideas to manipulate their new allies to his liking while he was still talking to them.

But Hange's mind was jumbled and overloaded with everything Kiyomi had revealed during the meeting. News from Zeke Jaeger couldn't be simple and pleasant. She would have liked to retreat into her office and take some time alone to think it all through—and maybe, only maybe, she would figure out what to make of it—but that would have to wait. First, she needed to bring Levi and Nora up to date. And she could probably do with some advice.

They listened to her summary of the meeting, starting with Mikasa's connection to the royal line of the Azumabitos, then detailing the 50-year-plan—what they were to do and all that they were not to do—without interrupting her once, sitting across from her at her desk. Hange did not gloss over what that would mean for Historia—they would always need a titan of royal blood in order to use the coordinate, if necessary—and Eren's vehement protest, which was bound to become another risk factor if they were to go along with the plan. Zeke's conditions for his cooperation remained unchanged—being allowed on their island and meeting Eren.

"Basically, we would stall for time until we've caught up with the rest of the world, keep Marley from attacking us because we could activate the Founding Titan, and hopefully build better relationships with some of the other nations in the meantime." Hange shoved her glasses up her head, rubbing at her healthy eye. It burned like a bitch. "And we would have to sacrifice Historia and her children for the freedom and lives of many."

She fell silent. Her back hurt, probably from all the sitting, as if physically borne down by the weight of possibilities, what-ifs, decisions to make and angles to consider. The day had been too long, already.

Nora broke the short silence first. "I don't like this." Before Hange could point out the obvious—who would like the prospect of a thirteen-year-old child eating their mother, kept like a pig for slaughter—she hastened to explain, "I'm not even talking about Historia. Because, let's face it, the royal line is condemned either way if we don't miraculously find another way to activate Eren's power, and she knows this. But we can't seriously consider sitting back, threatening Marley with something as grave as the Rumbling, and expect them to do nothing about it?" When Hange didn't reply—really, she had no idea what to say to that—Nora continued, "We'd essentially give Marley time to recuperate from the war that's currently holding them back, and eventually, once they've had time to prepare, they'll come down on us from the bloody sky. What are the Wall Titans going to help, then?"

"And it probably won't take them fifty goddamned years before they're ready for that," Levi added, arms crossed, his expression dark. "Or what if they send assassins after the royal family, once Zeke is out of the picture? A quick, clean cut—literally—and a major blow for our side. That's how I'd do it."

Their combined input on the matter was as reassuring as it was surprising; that is to say, not at all. For all their bickering, those two agreed on most things that really counted.

"Look, it's not like any of this hasn't occurred to me," Hange told them, gripping the edge of her desk with both hands. "But what is the alternative? Are you seriously suggesting we do like Eren said in his anger and trample them all down? Do you think that would go over well with the rest of the world?"

The sharp edge to her voice startled herself as well as Nora, who was stammering slightly when she answered. "O-of course not. But we need to do something. We won't be the only ones making technological progress."

"Yeah, we can't just sit back and do jack shit until all hell breaks loose on us," Levi said. "I think those bastards need more convincing than a mere threat to end their war against us for good. Or a good, long while, at least."

Easy enough for them to say, Hange thought with a twinge of frustration that was becoming increasingly familiar, pressing her molars together until her jaw hurt; they didn't have to make the final decision.

Which was a bit unfair of her, considering they'd had their fair share of awful decisions to make, as well. It was exactly why Nora was still sitting here, knowing all too well what it must be like for Historia to submit to a purpose she was "condemned" to. And if the war went on long enough, that would be the case for all shifters, including Eren and Nora. They'd volunteer to let themselves be eaten if—no, when—they lost their powers, because they couldn't afford to lose their biggest weapons, and without Nora, Levi would—

Shit. As if Hange didn't already feel stressed enough. No need to cross a bridge that hasn't even been built yet.

Both of her friends were looking at her, their commander, expectantly, waiting for her verdict. The two people dearest to her, the two people she considered family, and her most reliable comrades; never sparing her their opinions, no matter how harsh the truth, yet always putting their trust in her and following her lead, in the end. Usually, it made her smile, lent her strength. Right now, it just made her want to scream.

Still, talking it through with them had helped with sorting out the chaos in her head, as it always did. A little, at least.

Hange sighed, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to counteract the pounding headache she had been nursing ever since the official meeting with Kiyomi Azumabito. "You two are probably right. What's more, we shouldn't wait until the rest of the world starts hating us more than they currently do Marley. But we have to keep in mind that we need to convince other nations to negotiate with us; which they aren't likely to if we reinforce their prejudices. And we need more information before we can decide when, where, and how to strike for the best possible outcome." Her heart was pounding, her palms were sweaty, but an idea started to take shape in Hange's head. Something less drastic than launching an attack right away, and more prudent than only waiting and trusting Zeke. "We'll put together a small undercover mission to infiltrate Marley."

That seemed to take care of her friends' objections, for now. Levi nodded, leaning back in his chair, and Nora's eyes widened with eagerness. Hange felt the tension drain from her shoulders. Not the worst idea, then.

"Alright." Nora leaned forward, her hand flying to her necklace, twirling the pendant between her fingers. "When do we get started?"

"Our guests from Hizuru have just arrived, and our alliance isn't even a day old. We could definitely use their help for such an undertaking, but we can't ask them for a favour like this right away, before they even got to know us." Hange suppressed a smile. "Which brings me to my next news." And she announced, watching both their faces carefully, "In two days, we're holding what Yelena calls a 'soirée' in their honour. You know. Fancy clothes, food and drink, some of the cooperating Marleyans, and the higher-ups from the military and the government."

Both of them answered simultaneously, and exactly as Hange had expected.

"Give me a break."

"Do I have to—"

"You absolutely have to. Both of you. The Heroes of Shiganshina are all invited."

Their grimaces alone made her day; Hange was enjoying herself at their expense probably more than she should. Good thing she always saved the best bit for last. No way was she suffering through that event alone. If nothing useful came out of it, these two were at least bound to make the evening significantly more entertaining.

"I did not sign up for this," Nora said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"Come on. It'll be fun," Hange lied, now full-on grinning.

Or maybe it wasn't a lie, she thought, taking in their expressions: one somewhat disgruntled, the other bordering on horrified.

Looked like fun, to her. And she could really use some.

###

The one suitable dress she owned had taken Nora an entire afternoon to find, back in her days at the Garrison; one she didn't want to tear off immediately as soon as she tried it on. Why did formal women's attire have to be so bloody uncomfortable and scratchy? And she wanted to be able to breathe and eat, for fuck's sake.

In the end, she had settled on a short-sleeved, ankle-length dress with a low-cut, round neckline, cinched at the waist with a silken ribbon. The sheer upper layers of cloth covering the natural, undyed fabric were coloured in muted shades of blue and purple. While it had been one of the simpler designs in the shop, it was still the fanciest piece of clothing Nora had ever owned.

Good thing she and the other Scouts had brought most of their stuff with them to their brand-new, southern base, once the port was done and it became clear they'd have to spend most of their time there, indefinitely, far from the Walls. And expect visitors along the way—real visitors, she meant, ones that could leave whenever they pleased.

It might be out of her comfort zone, but at least Nora could breathe and move around decently in the soft material of the dress she hadn't worn in years. Slightly less comfortable were the shoes the shopkeeper had talked her into buying, back then, the heels so low even she could walk in them; she was still an inch shorter than Levi in his shoes. Which seemed like a missed opportunity, now that she thought of it.

He was standing next to her, tying the black tie that complimented a black suit and a grey shirt, the far-too-becoming getup second nature to him. Of course, she had already seen everything he wore for the occasion on him—except the tie—at times when they'd been off duty. He had taken barely five minutes to get ready. The bastard made it look effortless.

"You were once the best-dressed thug in the whole damn Underground, am I right?" she said to his mirror image.

"To be fair, I didn't have much of a competition." Levi's mouth curled in a mixture of wry amusement and disgust. "Most of them were filthy pigs."

For a second, Nora considered asking further, maybe about his time with Kenny, but quickly decided against it. They rarely ever talked about their pasts at length; it was painful and ultimately useless, she figured, and while she'd like to know every last detail concerning him, she understood his reluctance to talk about certain things all too well. And that went for Levi's nightmarish childhood in the Underground above everything else. Bringing up his dead serial killer uncle right before they had to go mingle with politicians would be a bad move.

Her heart sank at the thought of the long, arduous evening before them, and the sight of their reflections wasn't exactly reassuring. Next to him, impeccable from head to toe—not a single hair out of place and not a single wrinkle in his clothes—Nora felt like a sloppy brat playing dress-up.

"I hate this. It's such a pain making an effort to look... nice." Wrinkling her nose, she smoothed her hands over her dress, eyeing her hair critically. She had braided the front pieces back and secured everything in a low updo at her nape.

That would have been a perfect opportunity for another dig at her generally "messy" appearance, but Levi didn't take it. "Tsk. Why even give a shit? You're always beautiful, no matter what you're wearing." He stated it as a known fact, nonchalantly and without sparing her a glance, as if he'd already told her this multiple times—instead of, well, never.

Nora stared at him for several long seconds, unsure if she had heard him right, until he met her incredulous gaze with a frown.

"Why are you gaping like an idiot?" he asked.

"I happen to remember countless instances where you've told me I look like shit."

"Doesn't mean you don't still look beautiful," he replied flatly; completely serious, without a hint of his usual sarcasm, as far as she could tell. His eyes were trained on the bare skin above her neckline, where her necklace, usually concealed beneath her clothes, lay exposed.

Her cheeks warmed, and she focused on the mirror once more, fixing a strand of hair that didn't need fixing. "That seems quite contradictory."

"Maybe to you," he murmured, and left the bathroom before her befuddled brain could form a coherent answer.

AN: Premiere of Hange's POV; it was about time (and important here, I think). Hope I got her distinct voice down, hope I didn't botch it, hope it was enjoyable. As I do for the chapter as a whole, as usual. It's not that I think this story is boring to write - even though motivation can be a bitch, sometimes - but I do wonder how it reads.

One last thing I want to whinge about: Getting Levi's characterisation in a relationship right is fucking tough, and it's not going to get any easier going forth. BUT, I'm having a ridiculous amount of fun with it, and that might partly have to do with the challenge, and a lot simply because, well, it's Levi in a relationship, lol.