Chapter 14: Iris

Ribbons of crimson hair fluttered to the floor like falling feathers before falling apart strand by strand. Nephele had fallen into the methodical 'snip, snip' rhythm of cutting, staring at her eyes in the mirror instead of her work as she sheared off her locks, and remembering the last time she'd cut her hair by herself.

'It looks like blood,' she thought to herself for the thousandth time. Maybe she could dye it blonde like her mother's, or black like her father's. Maybe she'd resemble them a bit more.

Instead of shaving her head, this time Nephele opted for a shoulder-length cut. It was more practical this way. Her hair fell out of the neat bun she'd tied it in during her last battle, and she was lucky not to have gotten it caught in her equipment. She was lucky for a lot of reasons.

With less weight pulling on her hair, Nephele's waves were more springy now. She pulled on a strand and watched it bounce back into place. They weren't perfect spirals, but loose curls that softly framed her round face and made her look even younger. For a moment, she deliberated on whether she should just cut it all off instead.

Levi's Special Operations Squad had been completely decimated yesterday. She wasn't well acquainted with Oluo Bozado, or Eld Jinn, or Gunther Schultz, but she did know Petra. Of all their soldiers, it was the strongest who had fallen.

Nephele brushed off the whiskers of hair that had gotten on her clothes and skin, then outlined her lips with a dusty pink pencil and filled them in with lipstick. Because makeup was a luxury that she could barely afford, Nephele only wore more than a bit of mascara and eyeliner on special occasions. Funerals were one of them.

After she finished grooming herself, Nephele grabbed the broom out of the corner of the room and started sweeping her hair into a dustpan, thinking how distraught her mother would be to see that her daughter had cut off all her hair again.

"Time to put on your sad face, Neph," murmured the young woman to her reflection in the vanity mirror when she was ready to leave. On the chair in front of it was draped her cloak, which she pulled over her shoulders and buttoned. Her fingers traced over the silver fastening as she tried to postpone what was already happening. Tonight, a vigil was being held for the soldiers lost during the 57th expedition. Families and friends from all over the Kingdom would be present. Unfortunately, there were no bodies to burn – just titles given only to the valiant dead.

Nephele pulled on the pale pink heels she had inlaid with iron bamboo and laced them up, sighing contentedly as her vantage point rose an inch. Sure, she could always put on the stupid, ugly military boots like everyone else and pretend like she was one of them, but their gazes would just go right over her head. Wearing heels made her feel more confident. They gave her just an extra inch of height and made her feel a little less small.

Nephele tilted her chin up and went confidently to greet Death.

Lately, the days were comfortably warm but when the sun sank at night, it left shadows and cold in its wake. The air was chilly that night, and most dressed themselves in layers to protect themselves from the elements. Nephele was warm-blooded and prefered temperatures below fifty degrees, so she was dressed lightly in her standard military attire. The uniform seemed like the most appropriate choice of formal apparel for the occasion.

Even after the fires had died, Nephele could smell their burning flesh. It was the most repulsive thing she'd ever had the displeasure of inhaling, and was now burned into her memory. The sound of their bones cracking in the heat like kindling also wasn't something she would easily forget.

After they had been dismissed, Nephele left for the dining hall. Dinner would be served in a half an hour, and she hadn't eaten yet that day. While the thought of food revolted her, she wasn't about to starve herself.

Unfortunately, Commander Erwin had other plans for her. As she was approaching the castle's front door, she saw him standing there in the light of a torch amongst several other officers. She stopped to salute them when she noticed Erwin lean closer to an older gentleman to whisper something in his ear before turning his attention to her. Excusing himself, Erwin approached her and held out his hand.

"Good evening, Miss Ambrosia. Thank you for joining us tonight," he said to her. Nephele took his gloved hand and gave it a few firm shakes.

"Good evening," she echoed with a polite smile. "There's no need to thank me. It's important to honor those who've died in battle and see them off."

"It is. I have a few loose ends that require my attention, and Levi left before I could give him this letter," he explained, retrieving a sealed envelope from the pocket of his beige trench coat. "Would you mind delivering it to him in my stead?"

Accepting the letter, Nephele glanced at the red wax seal, but was unable to discern whose it was. She surveyed the area and found comrades and civilians huddled together in their social circles, exchanging apologies and condolences. It was a solemn, cold atmosphere. The moon hung low in the sky, looming bright and full like it had grown in size and threatened to drop on top of the earth from some invisible string.

"Of course not," she lied, thinking that once again she had found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. If someone else had passed him by before her, maybe he would have entrusted the letter unto them, but the honor was bestowed onto her instead.

"Good. You can probably find him in his office."

"Alright, I'll go bring it to him," Nephele agreed, wondering what the letter's contents were. She gave one last salute and waited for Commander Erwin to go about whatever business he needed to attend to before heading inside.

When she stepped through the large oak doors, she brought with her the cold outside air. Inside wasn't much warmer, but the air was comfortably humid at least. A gust of wind slipped through the cracks as she closed the doors behind her. Her heels echoed off the stone walls and floors of the great hall, its furnishings modest compared to its storybook counterparts. There were two large leather sofas facing each other towards the side of the room furthest from the doors, between which was a glass coffee table supported by gilded wrought iron. There were several hibiscus plants placed in the room's corners to add color to the otherwise drab area. Above –– suspended from the high, vaulted ceiling –– was a chain that swung listlessly side to side whenever the walls tremored from a door being shut with too much force, or when a gust of wind blew through. From it a chandelier should have hung, but the Scouts hadn't enough funds to adorn their Headquarters in crystal and silk.

Soldiers and civilians were scattered throughout the castle already, and by the time Nephele had exited the Great Hall she heard subdued chatter filter through opened doors as mourners shuffled indoors to escape the cold.

Levi's Special Operations Squad was decimated. Nephele remembered the Scout's embarrassing retreat from titan territory, and had heard Levi's grim orders from her horse as they galloped to safety. "Just abandon the bodies."

That must have been a hard decision to make.

After navigating the eerie hallways of the castle, Nephele came upon Levi's office. There was no indication on the door that this was Levi's quarters, but Nephele knew that it was his. Third door on the left, facing east. Her fist hesitated before knocking three times.

When the door swung open, it caught Nephele off guard. Suddenly she was staring at Levi, his eyes level with her own. He had one hand on the door frame and was casually leaning against it. His stance was like that of a cautious yet formidable predator. The heavy, permeative smell of alcohol emanated from him.

"What?" he asked patronizingly, looking down on her even though they were almost equal in height with Nephele in heels. For a few moments, she had forgotten why she had come, and her mouth opened to explain herself but no words came out. Growing impatient, Levi rolled his eyes. "Spit it out already. There better be a good reason why you're here," he barked.

Nephele tore her gaze away and attempted to smother her pounding heart, swallowing. She held out her hand, which still held the letter she was asked to deliver to him. "I have this for you. It's from Commander Erwin."

"What is it?" Levi inquired as he snatched the parchment out of her hand. He turned his back on her and made for his desk, tearing it open as he walked. Unsure of whether she should follow or leave, Nephele stood in the doorway.

"I don't know," she admitted, her actions and words even more reserved than usual. Although Levi was being true to his aloof nature, there was something… off about him. While Nephele couldn't quite determine what it was, or what made her come to this conclusion, what she did know was that he had a good reason.

Levi pulled the letter out of its envelope and sat down in his chair. Nephele took the opportunity to survey the room, taking quick notice of how neat and organized everything was. Books were organized on the bookshelves pushed against the walls. The office was spacious enough for there to be a black leather sectional and glass coffee table, upon which was a crystal vase filled with a bouquet of snow-white gardenias. Levi wasn't one for interior decorating, apparently. Other than the flowers, he didn't try to make the room welcoming with useless, flashy baubles.

Nephele's attention returned to what most demanded it –– Levi. His flinty eyes swept over the words of the letter he read, and she noted how quickly they did so. They narrowed as further down the page they travelled. When he was finished, he rose from his seat and took the letter with him to the fireplace to toss it into the low flames. The fire rose as it licked at the kindling.

After he had disposed of the paper-trail, Levi returned to his desk where he began to write. Nephele stood awkwardly in the doorway as she awaited his response. When he finally looked up, Nephele stiffened.

"Well?"

"Uhm... " At a loss for words yet again, Nephele looked at the floor.

"You going to close the door? You're letting all the heat out," he muttered before returning to the wishing to annoy him any further, Nephele stepped forward and shut the door behind her. When she didn't move, Levi rolled his eyes but didn't look up this time. "Sit," he ordered.

By the time Nephele had reached the chair on the opposite side of Levi's desk, he had finished writing. From a drawer he retrieved a black cloth, which he used to wipe his pen of ink before placing it into a bottle of other writing utensils. Then he folded the paper and placed it inside of an envelope, which he sealed with burgundy wax. Nephele watched him cautiously as he rose and poured the contents of a bottle of whiskey into two glasses. Her heart fluttered like a nervous bird.

Closing in on her, Levi held out a glass for her to take. The amber liquid barely stirred because of how fluid his movements were. "Drink," he ordered again.

"I'm not–"

"Drink," he insisted, placing one hand on the back of her chair. Her throat burned like she'd already had half a bottle, but she inevitably ceded to Levi's desires. Feeling his gaze on her, Nephele took the smallest of sips and stifled a cough. Levi clicked his tongue at her and proceeded to down the entire contents of his glass in one gulp.

"You're drunk," Nephele accused, her hand raising to cover her mouth and nose from the stench of alcohol wafting off of Levi.

"Not yet, unfortunately," he reassured and poured himself another glass. A rather peculiar thing about Levi was his alcohol tolerance. Despite being so small, and seemingly against basic laws of physics, he could hold his liquor very well. Better than anyone, really. While the rest of his comrades marveled at his immunity to alcohol, Levi took it as a curse. Sleep and booze are a person's only weapons against reality, after all. Sighing, he returned to his chair.

While Levi was too concerned with the contents of his glass, Nephele walked over to his desk, watching him closely. It was clear that he was trying to come off as indifferent towards her, but the way his eyes shifted up at her ever-so-subtly and briefly when he blinked gave him away. He was curious to see her reaction, and wondered where her high heels would lead her to. Only when Nephele grabbed the bottle of whiskey did he look up.

"Help yourself," he muttered with sarcasm, then downed the rest of his glass in one shot. He glanced at Nephele expectantly as she wrapped her fingers around the glass bottle, nodding his head at it. "Go on."

Rather than pouring herself a portion, Nephele tipped her head back and poured the whiskey down her throat. The glass felt cool against her lips, but the alcohol left a trail of fire to her stomach. It tasted clean and strong, the way she'd expect Levi to taste. Coughing, she covered her mouth with her arm and doubled over. It felt like she'd swallowed molten metal.

"Try pouring yourself a glass instead next time. I don't need you contaminating my shit," Levi chastised. Nephele noticed then that the bottle was already three-fourths empty.

"I bet I'm more hygienic than you," Nephele said, feeling rather strange standing while Levi was sitting casually behind his desk.

"None of us are clean, especially not you," Levi muttered under his breath. "So are you going to tell me why you've decided to waltz into my office and pretend like we're just old drinking buddies?"

Shrugging like the answer she would give was the most obvious thing, Nephele decided to take a seat at Levi's desk. She pulled herself up onto it and crossed her ankles while pouring herself a glass as Levi had suggested she do. "I don't drink much. Actually, I've only had alcohol one other time. I was with friends. It was after the Graduation Ceremony, and I'd gotten a drink from one of the barrels without knowing it had alcohol in it." Smiling, Nephele reflected back on the fond memory.

"Your point?" inquired Levi as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. Nephele's gaze went to the three buttons on the crisp white shirt that he'd neglected to button up, but didn't linger long. Her feelings for him were taboo.

"I was drinking with friends, and it was fun. I just thought that it wouldn't be so fun to drink alone," she answered, sipping at her glass. The tips of her toes and fingers were starting to tingle.

"Next time you feel that way, bring your own booze."

"You offered first," she reminded him.

"No, I ordered," corrected Levi.

Laughing, Nephele refilled Levi's glass and then raised her own, trying to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't even look her way. It'd been quite some time since she looked into them with the same fervor she kept tethered inside of her heart. She missed that steely spark.

Was that guilt she saw?

"A toast," she suggested, one hand on the desk to keep herself steady. The distance between their hands was an inferno that she dared not venture into.

"To what?"

What do people usually toast to? Good health? Fortune? The dead, the living, the soon-to-be-born? Love lost and love won, for victory and another battle?

"Everything," she offered. "The good and the bad."

Levi tapped his glass to hers and drank deeply, wishing it were poison they were toasting with. In a way, it was. He'd just have to increase the dosage. While Nephele had seen people toasting at parties, she wasn't too familiar with traditional drinking customs, so she didn't know that you were supposed to take a drink after toasting until seeing Levi deliberately do so. Not wanting to look like the naive little girl that she feared Levi perceived her as, she shot her liquor after him, trying not to scrunch her face up with distaste.

Frowning, Nephele looked down at her warped visage reflected in the amber liquid. She swirled it to form a tiny whirlpool that twirled around and around like her thoughts. It occurred to her that she wasn't well acquainted with Levi. She was familiar with who he was, but unaware of the fires that burned in his life to forge the person he is today. The same thing applied to Levi's knowledge of Nephele, but she didn't know if that crossed his mind. If she were to bet on it, it'd be no. He had better things to do than listen to the story of a traitorous soldier who only fought by his side because her only other alternative was execution.

"I'm sorry for your losses, Captain. We lost many good soldiers on that expedition," Nephele said, feeling that her attempts at consoling were inadequate. There was nothing she could say that could lessen his grief or bring back the dead.

Scoffing derisively, Levi leaned back into his chair. His posture was casual but proper, with his shoulders back and head tilted slightly to the right. His semi-permanent scowl and furrowed brows began to relax.

"We?" He was insinuating that she wasn't one of them again. While Levi's disapproval saddened her, Nephele tried not to take offense. She knew that she wasn't yet deserving of his acceptance. Although he was still adamant to consider her as a true member of the Scouts, it was clear that he wasn't quite as disgusted by her as he had been the past month.

Ironically, Nephele didn't delude herself into thinking that she was one of them either, so she didn't take offense to Levi's callous attitude towards her. She understood and agreed with him.

"Humanity."

Her response seemed to catch him off guard, and rather than make some crude, sarcastic remark or patronize her, Levi nodded slowly with silent approval. "We did. But they didn't die in vain. Their sacrifices brought us one step closer to the truth."

Smiling softly, Nephele finished her glass. She'd only just started drinking, but the effects of the alcohol were already beginning to set in. It was a strange, liberating feeling.

"You don't try to seem cold and distant, but that's how you come across as to most people. But I know that you're upset about what happened to your squad. You should try entrusting your feelings to others more. You don't need to carry the weight of all the people you've lost alone." After a few moments of deliberative silence from Levi, Nephele became anxious. "I'm sorry. I've spoken out of turn," she apologized.

"We've already gotten past the formalities," he replied. With sincerity, he appraised her efforts in battle by saying, "You fought well in the Forest of Giant Trees, but just because you're a decent soldier who knows how to follow orders doesn't mean you have my trust." He poured himself another drink, and Nephele wondered how much longer he was going to continue drowning himself.

"Did you just give me a compliment?" she teased, testing his limits.

"Did you just flirt with me?" he countered, much to Nephele's chagrin and horror. Her heart hammering in her chest, she cursed alcohol's knack for weakening a person's inhibitions. It was like she was playing with fire, and the burn in her throat was a reminder of its presence.

At a loss for words, Nephele searched for an escape route to the mess she'd gotten herself into. "You're the one who complimented me." 'Shit. That was such a stupid thing to say!'

"Don't get ahead of yourself," warned Levi. Nephele decided that she'd played with fire long enough and retreated, though she couldn't help the disappointed frown that she gave.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she muttered. Sliding off the desk, she held up her empty glass and asked him what he wanted her to do with it.

"Just leave it. I'll clean later," he replied. Nephele glanced around the room but didn't see much other than the almost empty bottle of whiskey on the desk that required attention. That's when she realised something.

"You had an extra glass on the desk when I came. Were you expecting someone?" she asked cautiously.

The look on Levi's face gave Nephele the impression that he didn't plan on stopping anytime soon. "I figured someone would see fit to barge in on me tonight, and I try to be a good host to my unwanted guests," he said sardonically. Rather than take offense, Nephele just laughed. She didn't mind his insensitivity.

"Well, thanks for having me. I'm not an alcohol connoisseur, but the refreshments were good by my standards."

"Look who's flirting now," Levi mocked.

Placing her fist over her heart, she saluted him as is expected of a soldier with her rank. "I'm only being polite."

"Would you like me to walk you to your room?"

Nephele turned her back on him and headed for the door just in time for her to cheeks turn a light shade of scarlet. "Goodnight, Captain." He didn't return her words and she left quietly, wondering if he was going to sleep tonight.