Chapter 20: Fond Memories

Levi couldn't leave the Wall of Shiganshina behind fast enough. And that was saying something, seeing as they were headed for the stinking, crowded capital.

The southernmost district of the Walls was barely recognisable as the ruined ghost town of two years earlier. The fresh paint of many of the houses lining the main street was almost blindingly white in the sun, and the closer they got to the inner gate, the less older structures were to be found; no wonder, since the bearded asshole and Bertolt had devastated the area. There hadn't been much left of the buildings around here, only foundations and the occasional, soot-stained wall or half-untiled roof.

Same went for this house right here, no more than fifty metres from the gate. The shingles of its roof brand-new, as were two walls of its exterior structure. Still, Levi could never miss the place whenever they rode by on their way into Rose, knew exactly where on that roof he'd found what had been left of her. Each time he passed through here, the memory was forced upon him in vivid detail, and he saw the burnt ruins that had once been, instead of what was there now; a rebuilt home housing unsuspecting people. The intrusive images flashing before his eyes, tearing him out of the present, filling his nostrils with the scent of ashes and smoke and burnt flesh and titan blood, warm and sticky and wet all over him.

Paradoxically, he could barely recall what it had felt like kneeling there, looking at her, how it had felt not being able to breathe. It was more like an abstract thought than a real memory; a greyish haze dulled the pain as though it was a separate entity occupying some dark corner deep inside his mind. And only in his dreams would the haze lift sometimes, and it would all come crashing down on him.

"What are you looking at?" Nora asked him out of nowhere, catapulting him back into the here and now with a force that knocked the wind out of him. She was looking at him, head cocked, a playful yet perceptive glint in her shrewd eyes. "Did you find a speck of dirt on that window?"

She couldn't remember the exact place, of course. She had been in no state to remember a damn thing.

Levi noticed only then that his breathing was coming in shallow bursts, accelerated just like his heartbeat. His jaw was gritted enough that it hurt. As did the too-tight grip on his reins. None of it was all too obtrusive, though, so it was probably—thankfully—not visible to others. "Shut up," he told her because he couldn't think of anything else, and forced himself to fix his gaze back on the road ahead.

###

The Special Ops squad and their commander were visiting the royal palace for the first time in months. And for once, they were meeting with Historia in a small conference room—well, small for palace standards—without any guards or members of the government accompanying her.

It was probably a good idea to have some privacy for this.

"Sorry we have to misuse you as a test subject again," Hange said.

"You kidding?" There was an enthusiastic glimmer in Historia's round blue eyes. "Finally there's something useful for me to do, again."

"Don't talk like this. You've done so many good, meaningful things ever since you became queen," Armin said, to the mutual agreement of his squad mates.

"Can we just get this over with, then?" Levi asked, somehow managing to sound bored and impatient at the same time.

First, they tried it separately. Nora reached over the table, wrapping her fingers around Historia's dainty hand. Several seconds of silence ticked by before she gave up.

"Nothing. Not even a single memory."

Disappointment flickered over Hange's features for the briefest instant—before her determination resurfaced and she said, with honest optimism and curiosity, "Well, we're not done yet."

Next, Eren took the queen's hand, holding her gaze. Immediately, his face tensed, brows drawing together, his jaw clenching. After half a minute, he let go of Historia so abruptly it seemed as though he'd burnt himself.

"Memories, again," he said before Hange could more than lean over the table, opening her mouth. "From many different Attack Titans. I think—" He hesitated, averting his eyes to the table. "I think it's gone back over centuries."

The tightness of his features, his clipped voice… Nora got an uneasy feeling, made even worse by its familiarity. It seemed like Eren carried so much suppressed, cold fury in him, icing him up just below the surface. She wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She wanted to ask why, but she sensed he wouldn't elaborate, not now, not in front of everyone; maybe not at all.

Eren had changed, no question. He was still changing. Sometimes, he could be so… so forthcoming it was hurtful—for example, starting a fight with her she still thought about every now and then, in the middle of an evening event. And other times, he was so withdrawn that he shut out even Mikasa and Armin, both of them clearly worried, out of their depth.

Nora still hadn't made up her mind about what she should do, if anything at all, when Hange spoke again, urging them to try once more, but with all three of them simultaneously.

Nora let out a resigned sigh. "Fine, but don't expect any entertainment."

And she reached for the hands they offered on the table, one much bigger than hers, one slightly smaller.

The moment she touched them both, so many things happened at once—in her mind and her body, crashing down on her, pulling her under. Blinding pain pierced her head, made red explode across her vision—at first.

This time, she saw. She saw and saw and saw.

It all flashed by so quickly, and she had barely time to process through the agony splitting open her skull.

It was over fast—or so she believed—and then she found herself with her knees on the floor, clutching her head with both hands, whimpering. She couldn't even remember falling from her chair. Levi was kneeling opposite her, his hands digging into her shoulders, tethering her to reality.

"What happened?" Hange pressed, crouching next to him. Her voice was wavering a little, eye wide in shock. "What did you see?"

Nora barely heard her; her ears were ringing, her head still hurting so much she could barely see, and she had to focus on taking shallow breaths through her nose, she felt so sick.

"What is wrong with you?" Levi snapped at Hange, eyes flinty. "Can't you see she is in no state to talk right now?"

"My head shit it hurts sorryican't…" The words slipped out in one rush of air in a sort of high-pitched whisper, without any intention on Nora's part.

A few seconds passed in silence, the mind-numbing ache slowly reducing to a bearable level. Only then did she taste the metal, felt the wet warmth all over her mouth, dripping from her chin. Unnecessarily, she touched her lips with her fingertips. They came away stained crimson. Of course.

The blood was all but pouring out her nose. Levi's hands were still clamping down on her shoulders, just shy of painful, and he was watching her intently, his lips a thin line.

It occurred to her where exactly she had collapsed, and Nora averted her eyes to the enormous, surely expensive carpet cushioning her knees—and found a round patch of blood several inches in diameter, darkening the red-and-gold pattern.

"Oh, bloody hell," she mumbled. "Literally. That'll be a pain to clean up for whoever poor sod has to do it." She really, really hoped she wouldn't puke on it, too, on top of everything. Saliva had gathered in her mouth, worsening the metallic taste of the blood.

"Forget about the ruined carpet, you idiot." Levi briefly looked up at his squad—plus Historia—all of them now surrounding Nora in a half-circle. "I've had it with this shit. Get her a doctor."

"It's alright," she managed to say before Connie, white-faced, could turn to go. "I'll be okay in a few." Well. She was almost certain.

Surprisingly, Levi didn't insist. He likely knew himself that it wouldn't help, anyway. Instead, he handed her a tissue—likely a futile endeavour, as well.

The bleeding went on long enough Levi ran out of them. What an accomplishment.

Once the stream had reduced to a trickle, Nora sniffed, wiping across her mouth and nose with her sleeve. Levi didn't give the slightest indication that he was disgusted, which was kind of worrisome. She gave his wrists a squeeze, signalling him to let go of her; he didn't entirely, instead sliding one arm around her midriff to support her as she pushed to stand on wobbly legs. Nora slumped on her chair, pressing her palm against her pounding head.

"Eren? What is it?" The group brought their attention to him at Mikasa's inquiry; he was staring at Nora, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I saw… nothing," he said, stumped. "Nothing at all, I mean. There was only black."

No one knew what to say to this. The wheels in Hange's and Armin's heads were clearly turning, though. Nora, on the other hand, wasn't quite in the right state for riddle-solving.

She let her eyes fall shut—her lids were so, so heavy, all of a sudden—but scraped together what little brainpower she had left to explain what she had seen. She had to, before anything slipped her tired, foggy mind.

"There was a young woman. Blue eyes, black hair. And you, Historia," Nora said without moving her propped-up head. "She looked at you, and suddenly you couldn't remember her anymore."

"Frieda, my sister," Historia said quietly.

"Then, a man. He looked older and sick. He was saying something… I don't remember what. But he was talking to Kenny." She glanced up at Levi, but his expression remained unreadable. Drat, even her eyeballs hurt. "And then—then there was the first, I think. The first king of the Walls. So many Colossals, all hardening at once. And just like that, the Walls were there." It had been terrifying, yet eerily fascinating; the way they were forming three perfect circles, their eyes empty, nothing human inside. Seeing it was a whole different story than simply knowing about it.

"Impressive. But I'm a bit at a loss, here," Hange said, pinching her chin as she thought. "You saw holders of the Founding Titan. Exclusively. I wonder why you, instead of Eren, when he is the one who—"

"One more thing," Nora interjected as the memory came rushing back to her at once. "I saw Eren and Mikasa, and they… they were talking. And then, him punching Dina. The titan, I mean. Activating the coordinate that one and only time." She had no intention to elaborate on the first part—that was clearly private business, and she was sorry enough that she had seen it. Judging by Eren and Mikasa's flushed faces, avoiding any eye contact, they thought so, too.

"I don't get it." Armin was shaking his head. "You've never seen anything before when you came into contact with Historia. It can only be because you touched Eren—and therefore, the coordinate—at the same time. But what does this tell us?"

"Not much. Something to do with my immunity, I suppose." Nora shrugged, wincing as another stab of pain shot through her head. "I don't get it, either."

"It doesn't matter. Nothing actually happened." Levi scowled, his features still tense. "All it did was nearly make her head explode, just for shit we've already known."

The others nodded in agreement—except for Hange and Armin, caught up in their contemplations. Likely thinking it had been worth it. And Nora was far from resenting them for it. This whole thing had been beyond weird, but she suspected they were right; it had to mean something.

"But—" Hange broke off abruptly, her gaze darting from Levi to Nora—and she seemed to decide it was better to let the subject rest, for now. "Never mind. Maybe we'll know more after you talked to your grandfather."

#

Levi paused one step before the door to the interrogation room, turning to her, his gaze severe. "Ready?"

And that one word was how she knew that this was serious business—because Levi was… well, something very close to worried, perhaps; it wasn't as if he ever put his emotions on display with his face.

Nora wasn't sure what to answer. She felt like she always felt going into a battle; her stomach a tight, hard knot, heart hammering in a cold chest, mind sharp. Expecting the unexpected.

Ready to kill.

But Levi was with her, this time, so she was as ready for this as she'd ever be, the cold trepidation not quite as pronounced as it had been the last time.

She swallowed, nodded once.

Levi pushed open the door.

A table, a lamp right above, painting a cone of shadow on the white ceiling. Three chairs, two on one side of the table, the third on the other; the only one needed and occupied. That was it.

The moment they entered the room, Frank Rosenberg looked up—and his blue-green eyes beneath well-groomed, snow-white hair narrowed with hostility and condescension, his sharp features tightening. "What are you doing here?"

Seemed she hadn't changed any more than him; already, Nora felt the fury rise hotly in her stomach as she met the gaze of the man who was responsible that she'd grown up as a half-orphan, but she worked hard to keep it from showing in her expression. She crossed her arms to keep them still and relaxed, and said, in a conversational tone, "I'm interested in some particulars of my family history."

"Your family history?" he echoed, derisive. "Impertinent bastard girl. You are—" he broke off, squinting at Levi by her side, motionless. "You brought quite the company. Were you afraid of coming alone, this time?"

"Very. I was worried you'd kick me in the face," she said flatly. And it had the desired effect; Frank Rosenberg tensed in his seat, a muscle in his cheek twitching. Nora smiled. "Why so jumpy?"

Glaring at her, he admitted, "If nothing else, you certainly left an impression."

Levi shot her a quick sideways glance; probably because her grandfather had mirrored what she'd said about him almost word for word. How revolting.

"Why, I'm flattered," she deadpanned.

"This is no compliment, you crazy bitch."

Not the first time he had called her that, if she remembered correctly. Next to her, Levi shifted on his feet, took a small step forward. Whatever Frank found on his face was enough to make him lean back a little.

"Doesn't matter," Nora said, unaffected by the insult. That was the least offensive thing about the man by a mile. Regardless, exchanging pleasantries wasn't what she was here for, and she was already sick of this conversation and of looking at the arsehole's face. So, she came right to the point. "Weak-minded, you called the commoners the last time we… talked. I want to know what you meant by that. I want to know why it doesn't go for us." She almost grimaced at the last word.

Frank had the nerve to grin at her, showing off a full row of teeth. It wasn't possible to tell the fake ones apart from the rest. Although they had taken his estate from him, they seemingly hadn't taken all his money.

"Now aren't you a quick one," he said. "Took you only two years to ask again."

Nora's barely suppressed anger flared, hot and cold at the same time. The obscenities, she didn't mind. But she very much didn't appreciate being called stupid, insinuation or not.

"Just spit it out, old man," Levi said before her temper could get the better of her. "I'm even more impatient than this crazy bitch here. And you don't want to find out what happens when I lose the rest of my patience."

For the first time, something close to fear flitted over Frank's face; apprehension, at the very least.

"I suppose my teeth are on the line again, if I refuse to talk?" His voice had lost some of his cool, arrogant steadiness. Everyone inside these Walls knew who Levi was, and her grandfather knew it better than a lot of them; after all, he had seen what Levi had done to Sannes.

"Not exclusively," Levi answered without any inflection.

Frank swallowed once, his throat bobbing. "Very well, then. After all, I would get nothing out of hiding this from you." The question in Nora's expression must have been obvious, because he elaborated, "Once they come for us, it's over for me, as well. Not that I think that joke you call a government will do anything useful with the information." He seemed to wait for her to react to the insult in some manner, but Nora simply waited for him to continue. What else would an entitled noble like him think of a government that had disowned and locked him away?

"You saw first-hand that with royal blood," Frank continued, heavily emphasising the word, "the Founder can control pure titans." His thin lips drew into a sneer. "Did you imbeciles really think this was restricted to those mindless monsters? We are all Subjects of Ymir."

Cold anticipation coiled in Nora's chest. She knew, already, she was too sure, but she had to ask, anyway. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Isn't it obvious enough? The coordinate is not only able to wipe the memories of the Subjects of Ymir. It can control them. All of them—with the exception of only two Eldian bloodlines." And he inclined his head at them both, for the first time acknowledging her roots without distain. "The Founding Titan can make every Eldian do its bidding, can make them believe what it wants them to believe. Make them follow its every whim. Make them want to do it, even." The contempt returned to his expression, this time not directed at her. "They're nothing but puppets, all of them, worthless and weak."

She exchanged a short glance with Levi; even he seemed somewhat troubled, for once, his eyes widened just enough she could detect it.

Shit. Shit shit shit. The stakes had got even higher, something she wouldn't have thought possible.

"Give us a reason to believe you," Nora demanded—because she really didn't want to.

"I already told you, stupid girl. It is quite simple; I rather prefer living to being slaughtered."

The insult barely touched her, this time. An iron ring constricted her stomach, and she felt almost as sick as she had the day before.

Frank surveyed her face, raising a smug eyebrow. "I assume you know that I have an heir left?"

She nodded, her jaw too tense to form words. He was referring to her cousin, too unimportant to be imprisoned in Mitras, instead serving his time north of the capital. A cousin she had never seen and didn't plan to anytime soon.

"He has been discharged from prison a few months ago," Frank explained. "And I want to see the Rosenbergs prosper again. Which, of course, is only possible if we prevail."

Nora couldn't find it in herself to care. Her cousin was a few years younger than her and likely knew nothing of importance; his low-security imprisonment was proof enough for her. Besides, she knew from her father's notes that the Rosenbergs were experts at keeping their secrets, only handing them down from one head of the family to the next once they reached a certain age or fell ill.

Right now, Nora could only focus on the issue at hand. One hell of an issue. "But why are we like this? The Rosenbergs are Eldian, as well, after all."

"Eldian nobility, and for good reason," he corrected, clearly not appreciating that she had compared them to 'worthless puppets'. "But I cannot answer this question any more than I already have. We are what we are, and have been as far as our ancestors could remember. Unlike the Ackerman clan, we were not made; we were born superior from the very beginning. Just like the royal line." With a haughty look in his eyes, he seemed to straighten in his seat, even though his posture had already been immaculate before—nearly reaching her height, standing opposite him as she was. "We are unique. Even you are, with your pathetic mother. We are not weaklings like the rest, even like whoever of your equally pathetic regiment inherited the Colossal Titan."

So the information about the Colossal's owner still hadn't leaked. Thank the heavens for small wonders.

Nora didn't even twitch at his statement—and neither did Levi, of course, she saw from the corner of her eye. She was too occupied contemplating Frank's unsettling revelations.

Freaks of nature, then. They were nothing but freaks of nature, just like the royal family. She had figured as much.

Frank Rosenberg's superiority complex really was the funniest thing. He knew they'd always been Eldian, had mixed with other nobility, Eldian or not—and even with commoners, on occasion. The occasional bastard child—such as herself—couldn't be prevented over so many generations, and her hypocritical, arrogant git of a grandfather had repeatedly made it clear that Rosenberg descendants retained their power no matter what. In any case, being what they were because of nothing else but mere chance wasn't an accomplishment.

Nora knew it was risky—after all, they didn't want to accidentally reveal something to him that he didn't happen to know, yet—but she still had a question left to ask; Levi and she were here to give them all as much an edge in this war as possible, and for that, they needed all the knowledge they could get.

"I read something, recently. 'The Rosenbergs are the only ones able to intervene in the king's absolute rule.' Any idea what this could mean?"

Frank Rosenberg scoffed. "Are you deaf or just daft? Is that why you came here now?" He paused, but she had no intention of answering his polite, rhetorical questions. No matter how much her fist was itching. "Very well," Frank continued after a few seconds. "I will repeat it for you, one last time: we cannot be manipulated by the coordinate, not in any regard. We have stood by the royal family for generations on end. Is that not enough for you?"

Levi spoke before Nora had the chance to, and it was for the better; her frustration had finally got the better of her. For the first time since she had entered the room, she had felt her composure slip, the heat in her chest rising to her cheeks. "If there's anything left that you know and didn't care to mention yet, you better tell us right now, or this is going to get very uncomfortable for you." He did not conceal the threat in his voice.

All colour drained from Frank's face, but he met Levi's dangerous glare head-on. "I assure you; you now know exactly as much as I do on this subject. There's nothing left to tell, no matter what you savages do to me."

Levi squinted at him for several additional, tense seconds. At last, his shoulders relaxed. "Alright, then. You might be a piece of shit, but at least you were a useful one, for a change."

#

"I can't decide if I'm glad or disappointed that I didn't get to punch his smug face," Nora mumbled once they'd closed the door behind them. It was more to distract herself than anything else; she needed a little time before they had to deal with the reality of what they'd learnt. Only until they met up with the others to discuss it. That was all she wanted.

And because she could always count on Levi to understand, he granted her unspoken wish. "Well, I can decide, no problem. I was very tempted to break his nose, back there." Losing some of his seriousness, he put his hand on top of her head, ruffling up her hair. "No one except me calls you a crazy bitch."

"That's sweet of you," she said, diving away from him and straightening out the mess he'd made of her hair with her palms.

One corner of his soft lips twitched, so she filed her sarcastic remark as a success. "By the way; I was wrong, this one time," he said offhand, looking straight ahead as they began to make their way along the corridor. "Stubborn, strong-minded brat that you are, you would have handled it just fine on your own."

Now he was one to talk. "Yeah, I probably would have," Nora said nevertheless, unable to help the warm smile spreading on her face. Following his example, she did not meet his eyes as she added, "I'm still glad you were there, though."

AN: It's fun playing around with OCs, and all with so different personalities. Back when I started writing OMWF, I hadn't exactly planned this. And it's been getting more and more important to the story.

Thank you very much for the comments and favs, so far. Comments are exceptionally rare, especially lately, so I treasure them immensely, and each favourite tells me there's a reader who likes this story.