[AN] don't worry, all of this disgusting fluff will burn like a marshmallow on fire soon enough. after this arc, I'll be focusing much more on Nephele's career as a soldier of the Military Police, and things will (hopefully) get more interesting. just bear with me for a few more chapters, then you won't have to deal with all the sickening OOC Levi fluff, and instead you will be handsomely rewarded with the blood of all your favorite characters! Hooray! angst! tears! DEATH!

as a side note, the book given to Nephele is an actual book that I have never read, so I am unsure of his actual contents.

I have mediocre plans for this fic, my lovely slaves *cough* I mean readers. just kidding, I love all of you guys. every time I see a favorite or follow or review, my icy heart melts a little more.

I wrote this while listening to the Death Note OST. so fuckiing good.

"Only enemies speak the truth; friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty." - Stephen King, The Dark Tower

Chapter 8: Thyme

The Survey Corps was scheduled to leave the same day that cadets were authorized to visit nearby towns and villages at their leisure. With all that their commanding officers were tasked with that day, it was decided that the cadets should spend time outside of the camp rather than have their superiors "babysit" them. Not often were the soldiers in training allowed such a privilege, so most donned their casual attire and went to Dunstad, the largest town in the area. It was only five kilometers north, an easy distance to travel astride horses, especially those bred for scouting missions.

Scores of cadets flooded out of the dining hall after breaking their fast, all in amiable spirits and laughing with one another as they made plans for the rest of the day.

"I just want to eat something that isn't soaked in vinegar for once," Jean explained to Marco as they stepped out into the morning sunlight. "I'm sick of all this soldier food. It's always beef and potatoes."

"I bet we can find a stall selling fresh baked bread," Marco said, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand.

"I don't know how Nephele gets proper nutrition since she cuts out meat from her diet. It's not like we have a wide array of food," Armin mused as he walked alongside the pair.

Overhearing their conversation, her attention piqued at the mention of her name. Nephele saw the top of Jean's head above the crowd and pushed herself through the throng of people to get to his side.

"Excuse me," she apologized to those she passed, reaching them just as the crowd began to disperse and set off in opposite directions. "I heard you guys talking shit."

Startled by the sudden interruption, Armin jumped at the sound of Nephele's voice before smiling sheepishly at her as he always does. "Oh, Nephele. No, we were just-"

"Yeah? And what're you gonna do about it?" Jean teased, his wolfish grin completely different from Armin's shy smile.

"I'll shove that shit back down your throat," she warned. People who overheard the words Nephele and Jean were throwing back at each other didn't dwell too long, though their eyes did otherwise. To an uninvolved bystander, it would seem like the two were being serious.

"Maybe I'll shove m-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Armin intervened before things escalated too far, covering Jean's mouth with both hands. Laughing nervously, he excused Jean and himself from the group, whisking the male away before he got himself in trouble with the fiery red-head.

Now, it was only Nephele and Marco. Scratching the back of his head almost awkwardly, Marco turned to her and apologized for Jean's behavior.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Marco asked, confused.

"Take responsibility for other people's actions, I mean. You're always trying to be the mediator."

Silent for a moment, Marco then smiled kindly down on Nephele. He was everything good and just in the world. It made her happy to know that she'd have a few friendly faces with her in the Military Police once they graduated, yet she knew that in the end, Marco would fight for the government he so honorably swore to protect. The King she meant to kill. That saddened her even more.

"I just don't want my friends mad at each other," he said frankly.

Unsure of what to say, Nephele waited for him to change the subject. Sure enough, he did.

"So, what are your plans for the day?" he asked.

"I dunno. Probably just paint my nails or something." Raising her hand to inspect her nail beds, Nephele frowned. They were now calloused and ugly from training, and her cuticles were atrocious. She used to always have polished nails, though now there was no point because they'd always chip the day after. Chipped nail polish is worse than no nail polish.

Brows raised, Marco asked, "Really? I'm surprised you're not going to Dunstad with everyone else. There's probably a lot of nice boutiques there."

Nephele didn't want to tell anyone why she was staying. So, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "I just want to relax for once. All this training is rather… tiresome."

In reality, she just didn't want to miss the Survey Corps' departure. She wanted to give Levi one last goodbye.

It had been a while since Nephele had ventured past the surrounding forest, yet oddly enough she didn't have that familiar wanderlust tugging at her legs, urging them to move forward. The chance to go on a long awaited shopping spree didn't even appeal to her either.

She might never see Levi again.

Instead, Nephele sat on the most verdant lawn she could find, the smooth bark of a pale birch tree against her back as she polished and buffed her nails to perfection. The tiny brush was given to her by her mother, Ligeia, when she was five. It was crafted out of horsehair and something called ivory. Ligeia told her that it was an ancient family heirloom, older than the walls and the titans, as old as the big tree in their neighbor's yard back home. That home no longer existed.

The ivory depicted intricate and detailed carvings of thorned roses. Ligeia told her that the strongest beasts to exist hundreds of years ago had bones and teeth made out of ivory. Ligeia told her lots of stories.

When Nephele's nails were turquoise and dry, she inspected her work. Raising her hands to the sky as if she were to grasp the sun and clouds, she squinted her eyes at them. As expected, they were almost flawless.

Too distracted by her nails, as petty as that sounds, Nephele failed to notice Levi's presence until he spoke, startling her in the process.

"Still here, huh?"

Gasping, Nephele dropped the tiny vial of polish, which subsequently spilled all over her beige trousers. She groaned with despair and didn't even bother to wipe it off with her hand at that point. It'd be best to let the lacquer dry, she decided, and see if scraping off the dried polish would salvage her pants.

"Still here," she muttered, screwing the brush back into the almost empty vial. She didn't sound too pleased to see him, though of course that wasn't the case. Levi stood with his shoulder leaning against the tree, arms crossed as usual. To her, it seemed like a defensive stance. He was a very guarded and cautious individual.

"Why aren't you out gallivanting with those raucous friends of yours?" he asked. His condescending tone made her feel like a kid.

Sighing, it became clear that her feelings were one sided. It wasn't anything personal, she knew. Levi was a soldier. He couldn't afford to leave his heart with someone else when his body could perish at any given moment out on the field. Even soldiers have their hungers for human flesh, just as titans do, though their desires are much more primitive. All she was to him was a distraction, a means to pass time until the next expedition beyond the walls. It was better that way anyways. Their paths met here, but after that they would travel in opposite directions. Regardless of all that, she did not want to appear emotionally vulnerable to Levi.

"It's annoying to shop with multiple people," Nephele offered. "I'd rather do it in groups of two or three, otherwise I have to deal with conflicting opinions on outfits and-"

"Do you care about anything other than flowers and clothes?" he interrupted, frustrated with the topic. She was such a fickle girl. A pretty, fickle girl.

"Obviously. Just because I like those things doesn't mean it's all I care about," she spat back, frustrated with Levi as well. He was so… Inconsiderate! Rude! He was just like everyone else who ridiculed or thought less of her because of the things she enjoyed.

"You-"

This time, it was Nephele's turn to interrupt. Without even letting him get out more than a syllable, she yelled at him, "This world's ugly enough as it is, so why should I have to be ugly too?"

Levi stared at her, arms cross, expression placid, and finally began to understand Nephele.

"Here." Levi knelt down on the grass before Nephele to hand her the book he had been holding. The book itself was hardcover, the color of dead grass, and depicted four separate images of herbs that she couldn't name. Across the top was inscribed "Earthwise Herbal: A Complete Guide to Old World Medicinal Plants," and beneath that the author's name Matthew Wood. The pages were yellowed and crisp with age, yet the book was in fair condition.

Taking the tome from him, her grasp as light as that of a child's, Nephele stared at it for a while as it sat in her lap. She could feel his gaze on her face, which was still hot from anger and embarrassment.

"What's this for?" she asked, bewildered.

"So that you can learn something of actual merit. Flowers are okay to look at, but that's all they're good for."

"Thank you," she murmured, aware of how close they were. If it were anyone else, she'd explain the uses and properties of every flower whose name had ever left her lips, defending her passion, but instead she was tongue-tied.

"It's several hundred years old. Hange likes to keep books from before the existence of titans. I managed to get this one out of her hands," Levi told her, still not leaving her side.

Finally looking up, Nephele smiled and pulled the ancient book to her chest. "Thank you," she repeated, realizing how valuable such a piece of literature was. She'd never even touched something so old and full of history. She wondered who had read it before her hundreds and hundreds of years ago. She wondered what kind of world the author lived in when he wrote it.

Giving her the smallest of smiles, Levi said nothing. For an instant, Nephele imagined what it would be like to hear him laugh. That was the first time she ever saw his expression change into one of happiness, and it was a memory she hoped to bring with her to the grave.

"Alright. I'll be going," Levi began as he stood. Like this, he towered over her. Nephele was always around him in her heels, and she wondered how it would feel to stand next to him barefoot. "Hange would leave this place a bloody mess if I didn't clean up after her ridiculous experiments."

Frowning, Nephele realized that she truly didn't want him to leave. Fantasies of riding alongside him in battle, cloaked in green, made her heart soar like the Wings of Freedom had been stitched onto it. It thrilled her to pretend just for a moment that she was one of him.

"I'll do it. I'll clean her room once you're gone. But in exchange, you have to fight me. No rules or holding back," she offered, standing up as well.

There it was; that spark of steel on steel in his silver eyes.

"How will I know you'll get the job done?"

"Well, it's not like I'd ever lie to you," she shrugged, and noticed something change in his expression that made her stomach twist in knots. He casted his eyes to the sky, avoiding her gaze.

"I suppose not," he murmured, his voice a faint susurrus.

"What's with the skepticism?" Nephele teased, tapping him on the shoulder with her fist. It was a casual gesture of familiarity that made Levi quirk his brows. Lowering her hand slowly, she frowned for the second time, feeling like an ignorant fool.

"I hope you realize what you've bargained for," Levi warned, sounding almost playful. Whenever he said something with such suggestive connotations, it always made Nephele's head spin and her heart dance.

"A few broken fingers, probably. Definitely a shit ton of bruises." Grinning, she held out her hand for him to take. "Deal?"

Crossing his arms almost defensively, Levi stared at her hand. "You must be a masochist." Yet Nephele would not relent. Holding her small hand in front of her, she gave Levi a look of such unwavering faith that he was the one who gave in. Rolling his eyes, he turned his body away from her, his hand shooting out to take hers. His grip was firm yet gentle, warm yet sent shivers down her spine.

"Fine. Just don't cry when I snap those pretty fingers of yours," he said, his hand sliding until he held hers like a gentleman would, his thumb gliding across a polished nail.

"Pretty girls don't cry."

...

Sweat and blood married on Nephele's flesh as rivulets trickled down her forehead the color of a liquid sunset. Her chest felt like it would cave in every breath she took, yet still she insisted that they continue.

"You're either too stupid to feel pain, or too stupid to back out," Levi mocked, flicking his wrist. It was sprained from when Nephele gave it a whack with a dulled, metal blade.

"Oh, believe me. I can feel this," she assured, her left arm dangling uselessly by her side. It wasn't broken, thankfully. Levi apparently had extensive knowledge about pressure points on the body. Where he gained such knowledge, she had no idea, nor did she want to know. Nephele decided that the mysterious types were mysterious for a reason.

Without warning, Levi sprang back into offense. Although she couldn't see his blade due to how swiftly it was swung in her direction, she could hear it slice through the air. She followed the path of travel of his arm as well, and judged on those factors alone where and when his blade would land. Whether it was luck or skill, she managed to avoid his attack, and countered it with a feint to his left side. He followed it, raised his blade to match hers, and left his right side unprotected. She let the edges of their swords collide before gliding her edge along the length of his own to give it momentum for her next swing as she stepped around him a hundred and eighty degrees to deliver what would have been a fatal blow.

Everything went silent. Instinct overcame Nephele, paralyzing her with fear. She felt a weight on her blade as if someone was stepping on it, and that burden quickly disappeared. For that fraction of a second, her eyes were open but unseeing. Where was Levi? She just had him cornered, and now he was no where to be seen. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat screaming at her, "Something is wrong!" It hadn't occurred to her until that very moment, beneath the blistering sun and Levi's sword, that she had never before known true despair. Levi's desire for Nephele's death seemed almost corporeal, like a parasite had burrowed into her skull and embedded itself into her brain, disconnecting the nerves to her body so that she couldn't even move.

"Levi-"

First, there was a crack that thundered in her ears like shattered glass. There were two after that immediately after. Then came awareness, and Nephele knew that Levi had just shattered her leg. Stunned and unable to support herself, she saw the blue sky unfold in front of her like a curtain. She hadn't known that something as minor as breaking a leg could be so… overwhelming. It didn't hurt initially, but she was terrified. She was going to fall and crack her skull open, too, and couldn't help but wonder if she'd hear that crack as well, or if she'd hear nothing but the stifling silence of death.

But the sky was still looming ahead. There was no black, just endless blue. And then there was Levi's voice, his face above hers, his legs beneath her head, the ground below her body. She felt like she was going to puke.

"Stay still. I don't want to move you, so just wait for the medics to arrive."

"You broke my fucking leg," she groaned, the pain beginning to register in her head now.

"Would you rather I had broken your ribs so that they pierced your heart? Or your skull? I underestimated my own strength, it seems, and I knew that if I struck anywhere else you probably would be dead. I couldn't stop my blade," he explained. He sounded completely unapologetic for his actions. Nephele didn't know if she was nauseous from breaking her leg, or from Levi.

"Why do you do this to me?" she asked, turning her head to hide her face in his coat. He was warm and strong, like a cup of black tea. At least one good thing came out of this ordeal - she was touching him.

Brooding in silence for a moment, Levi finally chose to answer. "I owe it to someone."

Groaning, she raised her hand to cover her eyes. "Great, someone wants my heart and leg broken." Today was a complete mess, and she had once again been made a complete fool out of by Levi himself.

"No. Someone wanted you alive."

Not long after that, the medics arrived to place Nephele on a stretcher and escort her to the infirmary. Commander Erwin was not far behind, flanked by Shadis and Hange. The two former didn't seem pleased in their own respective ways, though the latter had not a care in the world as usual. Once Nephele and the medics were gone, and Erwin had apologized to the girl on Levi's behalf, he turned to the man in question.

"Explain to me how this sparring match went afoul," he ordered. Any other soldier would shudder beneath his watchful gaze, yet Levi was far beyond hope of intimidation. He's stared into the eyes of beasts much more formidable than Erwin Smith.

Staring him directly in the face, Levi said without hesitation, "My hand slipped."

Shadis was not so calm. "How dare you injure one of my best trainees? Do you realize the damage you've caused? She could be incapacitated for months! I should have you fined for this," he yelled, spit spewing from his chapped lips.

"Yes, I'm aware of the limitations of having a broken leg." Though no saliva got on him, Levi dabbed at his cheek with his cravat in disgust, if only to mock the man.

"You impudent little-"

"That's enough, Instructor Shadis," Erwin tried to placate him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I will ensure that Captain Levi is punished appropriately. He is under my command, after all. I'm fully capable of handling him."

Frowning, Shadis nodded in submission. He couldn't argue with his successor, the current Commander of the Survey Corps. Levi was Erwin's soldier to discipline, not his, though he wished he'd keep the miscreant under better control. He was too wild, too free-willed.

"Of course, Commander. I trust you can deal with this situation appropriately, though if you don't mind I'd like to hear your decision once you've made it." Then, turning back to Levi, the darkness around Shadis' eyes seemed to turn darker, isolating them from the heat of his sunburnt face until they seemed cold. It was a different expression from what he sent towards his trainees to frighten them. It was one of contempt. "I hope you realize that you might have just caused irreparable damage to a potential soldier for humanity's fate. She most likely won't be able to graduate this year."

"I could probably mend the leg better than any of these half-trained medics," Hange assured, pushing their glasses farther up the bridge of their nose. Most of the military's best doctors were stationed with the Survey Corps and Garrison, where they were needed most.

"Then I ask, Shadis, that you entrust Nephele's care onto Hange. She'll be in better hands, I can assure you," Erwin said to his predecessor.

"I trust your judgement, Erwin. I'd like a report from you, Hange, on her condition, the circumstances of her accident, and estimated time of recovery. I'll take my leave now. There's plenty of loose ends left to tie up before the lot of you return back to your headquarters." Without another glance at Levi, his hands clasped together behind his back, Shadis marched back in the direction of the main building.

Watching Shadis' back, to the untrained eye it would seem that Erwin was as calm as ever. His two most trusted aides could still distinguish the slight changes in his demeanor and tell that he was far from cool and composed. His jaw clenched and unmoving, his thick brows hanging slightly heavier on his face. "Hange. Leave us."

"As you wish," they obliged, much more interested in the state Levi had left Nephele's leg in than him being reprimanded.

Once they were gone, Erwin turned on Levi. These past two weeks had lightened the purple bruises beneath his eyes and brought a bit of color back into his face. At least he had able to take a respite from the stress of his position as Commander of the Survey Corps, though the Trainee's was still a far cry from a luxurious vacation resort.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you."

Levi didn't even bother trying to hide his true intentions from Erwin. Though he was disobedient, he wasn't as much of a craven to lie to his Commander's face.

"I did."

"You do realize that you took away her chance to make her own decision, don't you? If Nephele had chosen the Military Police, she'd have been safer behind Wall Sina. You robbed her of that choice," accused Erwin.

"She would have chosen the Survey Corps eventually. She's rather infatuated with me," Levi insisted without a single doubt in his assumptions. Sighing, he placed his hand on his forehead and closed his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. "The brat will graduate this year, on time. I'm not a fucking idiot. I didn't shatter her fibula and tibia or anything, just snapped them in half. I think I gave her a few hairline fractures on top of that, though. I'd give her three months before she can return to training, which leaves plenty of time for her to bring her grades back up."

"You just wanted her to hate you so that in the end she'd join the Military Police. Is that it? You undermined my authority, Captain."

"Indeed I did, Commander."

Breaking legs was cleaner than breaking hearts, Levi thought.

Thyme's medicinal uses are rather broad. Different species of the herb, according to the book Levi had given Nephele, could combat high blood pressure, acute bronchitis, digestive problems, arthritis, and boost the immunity system. It could even be used as a disinfectant against mold and to ward off insects like mosquitos.

The genus name, Thymus, is of Greek origin, which is Nephele's own heritage.

More interestingly, Nephele learned from this herb of a strange, ancient race called the Egyptians, who used thyme in a process of mummification. Honestly, she didn't really know what the fuck that meant, though assumed it was a way they preserved bodies of the dead. The practice sounded impractical and repulsive. Wouldn't they run out of space to keep all of the dead bodies after a while? These days, it was customary to burn the deceased so that precious land wouldn't be wasted on those who were no longer alive to stand on it. Only nobles could afford the luxury of being buried.

The Victorians, another elusive race that Nephele had never heard of, held belief that patches of wild thyme growing in the forest were the dance floors of woodland fairies that had sprouted beneath their feet as they danced in the night. Nephele liked that myth a lot.

Many cultures also suggested that thyme promoted courage and was a common symbol of fortitude. Knights would down drinks seeped with the herb before battle.

If only Nephele could have a cup of thyme tea, to erase her fears and dread. With her leg now broken and restricting her to a cot in the infirmary for a few weeks, Nephele feared that she'd be expelled from the Trainee's. She wouldn't be able to train any longer, and by the time her leg was healed she'd have to regain all of the lost muscle. It was likely that she wouldn't graduate with the 104th Trainee's Squad. Even if she did recover in time to rebuild the body she worked so hard to create, it wouldn't be strong enough to catch up with her peers and push her back into the top ten so that she would be eligible for the Military Police.

The Survey Corps returned to their headquarters several days prior, and Levi hadn't even said goodbye or apologized for what happened. After the incident, suddenly Levi seemed so inconsequential. There were far more important things to worry about than Humanity's Strongest Soldier. He could take care of himself. He took pretty damn good care of breaking her leg, after all.

The only comfort Nephele had now was in the wilted, yellow pages of the book he had given her. She learned quite a bit about the properties of countless herbs, and ancient lore on top of that. She now understood why Armin was so engrossed by the world before the titans. It sounded like a place of magic and intrigue and culture. Where is the culture now? Was the magic of the Old World eaten by the titans, too?

At least the bed in the infirmary was much more comfortable, though Nephele's leg still ached with a constant, throbbing pain so it was hard for her to fully enjoy it. The walls were white, the sheets were white, and the gown they gave her to wear was white. It seemed like she had drained all of the color out of everything around her. With the window open to let in the cool breeze, she could often hear Shadis shouting orders and insults at the cadets, the thundering march of hundreds of feet, and the occasional cacophonous roar of every cadet's voice as one. She wished to add her own voice and march to theirs.

Outside her window she could see a single tree. It was the birch tree that she had sat beneath when Levi handed her the book she now had in her lap. It was rather large for a birch tree, though not quite as large as an oak. Transfixed by the unchanging picture, framed by the window itself, Nephele heard the door to her room open though she didn't turn her head to see who it was.

"You look like a ghost with fire for hair," Shadis said from across the room as he entered. They had spoken personally a several times in the last few days about the incident, though Nephele still refused to blame Levi for her broken leg. She claimed it was an accident on both of their behalves.

"It's the sun. I lose my color rather easily."

"You're Greek, right? Your race is one of the many that have been almost entirely wiped out. I believe you and your parents are the last of your kind. Though my studies have suggested that your people were olive-toned and either blond or brunette," Shadis went on, sitting on a chair beside her bed. It was he who would eventually decide whether she would graduate with her class despite being currently incapacitated.

"Were the last of my kind. Now, it's only me," Nephele corrected, now looking at him. "What's your verdict, old man?"

Grimacing, Shadis shook his head. "You're starting to sound like Captain Levi."

"My insubordination isn't a product of the Captain, I can assure you."

"Be that as it may," his voice trailed off until he continued with, "I've thought this over with the other instructors, and it has been decided that your abilities are not something we can afford to waste. You and Mikasa are by far two of the most exceptional cadets that our faction has ever seen. Two little girls."

"And that means...?" she pressed, anxious for his answer.

"Once your leg is healed, you'll start training all over from the beginning. You'll take it easy, though, because it'll take a year for it to fully heal. By then, your classmates will be far ahead of you in terms of ability, both from more training on their parts, and less training on yours. We will reevaluate your skills in the final test and decide where your abilities are, and score you appropriately."

"So, you're not expelling me?" she asked, stunned. Most cadets who had sustained injuries similar to her own were discharged, yet they were giving her a second chance.

"Of course not, you damn fool. You think we'd let you free? No, you belong to the military now." Standing, Shadis held out his hand for her to take. "It isn't allowed for an instructor to ask what faction cadets will be joining upon graduation, or influence their decision, but humanity would greatly benefit if your decision was to take on the green of the Survey Corps."

Taking his wrinkled hand in her own, Nephele gave it a firm shake and smiled for the first time in days. "Thank you, Instructor."

"I hope you don't disappoint me," he said, looking down on her.

"I have a favor to ask, though."

"Greedy, huh? Alright, let me hear it," agreed Shadis, waving his hand for her to continue.

"I'm going to need a few weights to keep my arms in shape at least."