Year 841
Wednesday morning, January 3rd
Scouting Legion Headquarters (Wall Maria)
Hospital Wing
I should have seen it coming – well, her coming.
Pah, how I managed to land myself in a bed being treated, rather than at a bed treating someone must come up to my newfound horrid luck.
First off, when I got off the boat and asked travel to the Legion's Headquarters, I was mistaken for a prostitute. Yes, a whore. Me!
Who in their right mind would assume me, of all people, is a whore!? Do I give off that aura? Do I reek of perfume and invoke the wild rage of lust in every man I pass? Oh lord, have I been a harlot my whole life and just been too sheltered to see it?
Luckily, the man I asked took note of my flaming cheeks (yes, I have a bad habit of blushing furiously – to the point where you could probably fry an egg on my face… attractive, I know), and apologised for his embarrassing mishap immediately. He then pointed out a few supply carts headed that way.
"Over there, Miss," he coughed, embarrassed, "ask for a ride with them fellows, they'll be more than happy to take a pretty lass like you to see the castle."
"Th-Thank you," I stuttered, scurrying off before I could plunge any further into the steaming vat of sheer awkwardness I had created. "Excuse me?" I called, standing tentatively beside the last cart.
"Yes, little miss?" an elderly man in a green cloak replied, his haggard face showing signs of kidney deficiency and insomnia, barely managing a kind smile.
"Sorry to bother you, sir," I began, fumbling with the handle of my suitcase, "I'm looking to reach the Headquarters of the Recon Corps. If you would be so kind as to allow me to travel with you, I will be more than willing to compensate you for your assistance, as well as clear up the remains of the illness you've attained out in the cold."
The man stood there for a moment, hands halting as they tightened the bindings of the material covering the cart.
"What is your business there?" he asked, his voice still soft.
I gulped nervously before launching into a brief explanation, "I'm a medic, sir. I've been trained exceedingly well in the treatment of both long term illness, short term illness, emergency trauma injuries, including amputations and operations-"
"Ah," he interrupted, not unkindly, "You wish to offer your services to the Legion, then?"
I nodded enthusiastically, blonde plait bobbing on my shoulder annoyingly.
"Hmm," he hummed, hurrying to tie the knot he neglected. After it was secured, he turned back to me, feet crunching in the frost at our feet, "I'm afraid that you won't be of much use, little miss."
Against my better judgement, I gaped at him (oh heavens, I must have looked like a right dumb fool then!), attempting to splutter out my confusion.
He looked down at me then, with wise, sad eyes, "The percentage of men that die within the Walls are only around four, a high contrast to those who don't make it back – around thirty, my child. Unless you wish to voyage beyond the walls to treat the men out on the field, I cannot help you."
With a small nod, he spun on his heel and walked away, hopping up onto the cart, jolting it into motion before I had a chance to move my freezing limbs.
"W-Wait!" I called (my voice only trembled from the cold, not because I was close to wetting my pants or anything! I swear!), "Please, I want to help!"
The cart halted, and I scrambled to hurry to where I could see his face clearly, "I – I need to help! I can help! I have the capacity to do some good, so please take me where I can save people!" (I'm more of an idiot than I give myself credit for).
He looked down at me again, disapproving now, "I've told you already, young lady, there's nothing you can-"
"Doctor Jeager! Doctors' Grünberg – both of them! Doctor Schultz! Doctor Schwerin, Doctor Freid, Doctor Trauss, Doctor Füther, Doctor Alder, Doctor Grenenger! I have trained with them all – I know how to truly help the injured, I wish to be an asset to the Scouting Legion, sir!" I felt the stupid heat in my face return, bringing an unpleasant tingling to the back of my eyes (yes, I cry when I'm frustrated, but if I didn't make it in then I'd have to go back and face the wrath of sophisticated society – oh, the horror!).
I could tell he was impressed with the line-up I gave him, but he remained sceptical, "You don't seem the type for physical exercise," he announced gruffly, "how do you expect to survive beyond the walls without some measure of fitness?"
"I-I'll work hard if I'm accepted by the Commander!" I cried, desperately trying to keep my composure before him, "Please, just give me a chance – all I need is one chance!"
The silence that followed had to be one of the most intense moments in my life. His dark, all-knowing eyes stared down at me, taking in my pink cheeks, my (regrettably) watery eyes, my long, messy plait, my long winter coat, the pack on my back, the case in my hands, and finally, the boots on my little feet.
"How old are you, girl?" his voice wasn't condescending, or harsh. He was addressing me as he would a soldier.
"Nineteen in a few days, sir," I replied, hoping my voice didn't tremble as much as my body did beneath the large coat.
"Nineteen, hmm? And why didn't you join the legion earlier?" it was like being interrogated.
"My medical training wasn't complete until last year, sir. I had no idea of the losses the Recon Corps suffered at every expedition until midway through last year, when I treated some men close to death from blood poisoning and infection," I barely took a breath, hoping he wouldn't turn me away, "I was about to be commissioned as a royal physician, but I ran away before I could be appointed. No disrespect to the King, sir, but I believe the soldiers protecting him are in more need of care than he is."
Silence ensued once more. His tired eyes analysed me closely, squinting down at me as though gouging my intelligence and strength with just his eyes. Wordlessly, he shifted to the right, nodding to the now empty bench beside him.
It was then that I realised I was too short to reach the height of the bench unaided. With a frown, I hoisted, my bag up to the high carriage floor, scanning the side of the cart for any purchase for my cold feet.
The only thing I could recall that would allow me to gain any form of height to be able to sit beside him, was the slight indent at the back of a cart where a knot was missing to hold the material down.
I scurried over there as fast as I could.
With some effort, I jumped, my hands grasping at the ropes that extended around whatever material was keeping the contents of the wagon contained, hurriedly digging my foot into the little dent.
Struggling not to whoop in excitement, I stepped up a little higher, to the wooden frame around the cargo, precariously edging my way over to the front until my boot was safely on the flat surface of the bench. With a huff, I slid down into my seat, another (yes, another) blush gracing my face at my unladylike actions.
He must've thought I was a barbarian!
We were headed to the Headquarters at a fast pace, despite the frost and ice on the old cobblestoned road. Not a word was said between us.
We reached the castle-like Headquarters within half an hour, riding into the entrance courtyard to join with the other carts. That was when my third bout of bad luck struck.
"Commander, sir!" someone cried upon seeing us, "The Commander of the Military Police is here to speak with you. He is in your office, sir!"
I struggled not to let my horrified stare linger on the wizened old man beside me, and I managed to – but just barely. The other occupants unloading the supplies from the cart watched on in interest as the Commander hopped off the bench beside me, offering his hand to help me down.
With fumbling hands I managed to pull on my backpack and grasp my suitcase in one hand, graciously (hey, I like to think I learnt some form of eloquence from my time in the Capitol!) accepting the hand of the Head of the Legion to help me down.
"Follow me, Miss," he ordered, and I didn't dare speak up, unsure whether to be scared of him, or scared of the Head of the Military Police. My mother and father had been close friends with the man, after all. So we walked through the cold stone corridors of the castle-like barracks, and I was eternally grateful for the warmth of the halls.
Alas, we made it to the Commander's office.
"Adelheid?" the Military Police's officer in command, Thomlin Dawk, exclaimed upon seeing my face.
Once again, I showed my winning blush, "Good afternoon, Mr Dawk," I greeted meekly, biting my lip.
"Schreiber wha-what is she doing here? Her father's got half of my forces out scouting the confines of Sina and Rose looking for her!" uh-oh. He didn't sound pleased at all.
"Miss Adelheid here has asked me to accept her into my Legion as a healer," Commander Schreiber announced calmly, "she tells me she is quite the doctor."
"Of course she's 'quite the doctor'," Dawk practically growled, "her parents are the Grünbergs! She's meant to be in the capitol as we speak, accepting the position of a master physician under the king's guard!"
"Ah," Schreiber hummed, looking to me, "so you were being honest about that."
I barely had the sense to nod, too scared of being carted right back to the Walls of Sina. They couldn't take me back when I had made it so far! I already sold my apartment and resigned my position at the hospital – and being over the legal age to hold myself, my parents couldn't command be back by law (yes, I did my research in the law books – both civil and military, mind you!).
"Adelheid," Dawk addressed me, his greying hair decisively too neat, his light brown eyes commanding, "come back with me. Nile is willing to overlook this mishap, he's set to become the next Commander of the Military Police – the documents are ready to be signed for you both! You can still work for the king, own a luxurious house, have a child or two-"
"No," I surprised myself by the strength behind that single word, "I'm not going to work under the king, and I'm not going to marry your son. I-I'm sorry, Thomlin. Tell my mother I'm sorry."
His face hardened at that, "I'm afraid you have no choice, young lady. I have been commissioned to escort you back to Sina by the Head physician of the king himself. They won't let skill like yours get away so easily."
"I don't think so, sir," I said, squaring my shoulders, "despite what you have been commissioned, I have the right to refuse to be taken into your custody. Seeing as I have not broken any laws, nor am I in a contract of any sort, you nor anyone within Wall Sina can hold any semblance of authority over me."
He froze at that, not expecting me to be well read in the law of the Walls.
"She's right, Thomlin," Schreiber nodded, a twitch at the corner of his mouth, "you have no power here. Miss Grünberg is of age to make decisions for herself," he turned to me, "I am willing to accept you into this legion, but I must warn you of the dangers of this field. You will be directly exposed to titans, to the weather and the elements beyond the walls. You will see death, and most likely die out there if you don't have any semblance of training. Are you prepared to put your life on the line? If not, I advise you return to Wall Sina with Commander Dawk."
His words scared me senseless (what, I'm a coward and I know it), but I nodded hastily anyway, hurriedly dropping my suitcase to execute a salute (I practiced beforehand), "I wish to join the Scouting Legion, sir."
"Very well," the old man cleared his throat, "welcome to the Scouting Legion, Adelheid Grünberg. May luck be with you."
I was escorted outside after that while the two commanders discussed something or another (I didn't want to assume they were talking about me, I get nervous when I think about that kind of thing). I was taken by a man named Mike Zakarius to a room I would share with another member of the legion in either the research or medical field.
I wasn't a positive, but could have sworn he had sniffed at me and grinned.
"You're a doctor then?" he asked as I put down my suitcase in the ordinarily sized room. I nodded, shrugging my pack off on to my bed at the left side of the room, which was relatively bare. The right side of the room, however, was anything but. Pieces of parchment were nailed all along the wall, and the lone desk just beyond the bed head was stacked with papers and spilled ink pots. Clothes littered the floor beneath the bunk, and the wardrobe at the foot of the bed remained open, items of clothing strewn about haphazardly within and around it.
My side looked amazingly clean in comparison.
"Come, you must be hungry," Mike said from the doorway, "you can unpack later, I'm sure Hanji wouldn't mine helping you."
"Hanji?" I asked as we headed out of the room and down the corridor, the opposite direction from whence we came.
"Your roommate," the tall brunet man informed me, stroking his goatee lightly, "come to think of it, she'll be ecstatic to have someone to ramble to about her experiments."
My ears perked at that, "Experiments? She's a scientist?"
He chuckled at my hopeful expression, "In a sense… she studies titans."
"Oh," I shouldn't have been disappointed – I mean, I was in the Scouting Legion for goodness sake! The topic of titans wasn't taboo here as it was back at home. Wait… home? No, Sina wasn't home. Karanese was home, and it always would be. Maybe after I retire, I could go and live there? Gah, back to the retelling!
"Here we go, don't mind the staring – the men haven't seen someone so good looking around in a long while. You might want to be careful, don't walk around alone," he advised, nodding to the end of the hallway, where the men and women were streaming in from their afternoon training session for some refreshments.
Mike stopped me suddenly, "Here," he nodded to the right, to a large set of double doors leading to the Mess Hall, "let's go find a seat-"
As he spoke, my gaze travelled across the hall, taking note of the blatant stares of both the male and female soldiers (probably wondering why such a small little thing like me was suddenly joining them for afternoon tea). At the far end of the hall, I caught a glimpse of…was that… could it be… no –
"Heidi?" the woman I had been staring at bellowed, dark hair glistening, tan skin glowing, hazel eyes so wild.
I vaguely registered my eyes widening the smallest fraction as she barrelled towards me, food discarded at the table where she'd been. I knew she was running too fast, that the rate of her acceleration was going to mean a nasty impact, but I couldn't move – it was Maxine Kauffman, and she was there.
She slammed into me so hard that she actually knocked me out.
How embarrassing.
I just woke up, and the sun's just barely over the horizon. I slept literally the whole afternoon and evening, and now it's Wednesday. I hope the Commander doesn't realise how much of a numpty I am, and changes his mind about letting me stay. Speaking of the Commander, here he comes now – I'll write later!
Later, Breakfast in the Mess Hall
I'm still here, praise be to whatever gods linger above! I've just met my roommate, Hanji, and she's… eccentric to say the least. Max was just here too, and she introduced me to some of her friends, but they're all off at training now. Introductions were exceedingly embarrassing, considering the horrifying entrance I made yesterday.
By the time I'd left the short discussion with the Commander about time spent learning the ropes and preparing to train to be fit enough to make it out alive on an expedition, I had to make my way to the Mess Hall alone. It wasn't hard to come to a hallway I'd been guided through yesterday, and so the journey to breakfast was relatively easy.
My entrance was less dramatic, despite the stares I still attained. Spotting Max and Mike at a long bench on the right, I hurried over, keeping my face down to hide the flush in my cheeks at the abundance of attention. I never was good with a lot of people, seeing as I spent most of my childhood isolated with only books as company. I envied Max in the sense that she was outdoors her whole life, tending to the farm animals and whatnot, as well as her father's training regime.
"Morning, sunshine!" Max greeted in a sing-song voice, patting the bench beside her, "I got you some porridge!"
"Thanks," I mumbled, flashing her a timid smile as I slid into my seat, easily the shortest person there.
"Oh, come on Heidi, don't be so shy!" my friend laughed, clapping me on the back, "here, let me introduce you to the best fighters this legion has to offer! You know Mike already, four eyes over there is Hanji, she's your new roommate," she nodded to the auburn haired woman opposite us, smiling brightly despite the mocking nickname.
"Hello," I mumbled, cursing my soft voice, though I did offer up a smile.
The woman smiled back, "Greetings, Adelheid! It's nice to finally meet you! You are a doctor, yes? Do you know anything of the anatomy of titans, then? Do you think you could teach me of human anatomy? What do you think about-"
"Hanji, give the poor girl a break! I think she's still got a concussion, no thanks to our dearest Maxine," said a blonde woman, rolling her eyes as she ran a hand through her boy short hair.
"That party pooper is Nanaba," Max smirked, nodding the woman, "and bandana boy over there is Dita Ness. Moblit's the one with porridge everywhere, Henning is giving himself a haemorrhage trying not to stare at you, Gerger's trying to steal my porridge – fuck off you little shit, I already gave you my bread roll yesterday! –, Keji's the one with better hair than half the women in the human population, Gunter's the one that looks a bit like the Commander and is currently glaring at me for being 'childish', Ilse is Hanji's crazy titan loving friend and Luke over there is the one drooling into his breakfast."
Right. Hanji (glasses lady), Mike (sniffy guy), Nanaba (short haired blonde), Dita (bandana boy), Moblit (messy eater), Henning (ogler), Gerger (porridge thief), Keji (hair product genius), Gunter (Commander look-alike… although about sixty years younger), Ilse (shoulder length brown hair, freckles) and Luke (half asleep in his porridge).
I nodded, gluing each of their faces to their names in my mind.
Aha. Got it.
"You're so tiny!" Ilse practically burst out, covering her mouth at the unorthodox exclamation.
I giggled at that, a faint blush still lingering on my cheeks, "Yeah, I've always been vertically challenged. Max never fails to remind me of my 'feeble little body' as she so kindly puts it."
They laughed at that (though, I think they laughed to be polite more than anything, because I'm not funny in the least… not to anyone but myself, of course. Heh.), and Dita looked over to my tall friend, "How do you guys know each other?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"We both lived in Karanese," Max explained, stifling a yawn, "her high and mighty parents moved them all over to Stohess a week before I joined the Training Corps."
"Ah, so you're the same age then?" Mike quizzed, eyebrow quirked.
For some reason, I felt my face flush, "No," I mumbled, "I'm two years younger."
"What? Aww!" Hanji and Ilse exclaimed in unison, "You're still a baby!"
"I'm nineteen," I deadpanned, not exactly a fan of being compared to a helpless infant.
"Still a young spring chicken, I say!" Max laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulders, "I was around your age when I first joined! But I hear they may change the registration age to younger, so the soldiers are ready by fifteen rather than eighteen – it's a stupid idea if you ask me."
I frowned, nodding in agreement, "Children that young don't have the emotional capacity to deal with the training regime they're put through in order to join the military. If they're fully trained at fifteen, they'll be mentally and emotionally stunted, most likely with extensive trust issues, depression, insomnia and a range of other trauma-induced effects. Besides, children at the age of ten or eleven are ridiculously idealistic, and they'd join the army before they fully understand the implications and responsibilities involved. If too many children join and neglect the issue of repopulation, then humanity's numbers will dwindle to an all-time low. If a plague were to strike, or a natural disaster were to occur, we'd stand little to no chance of survival."
They were silent for a few moments, staring at me as though I had four heads. Note to self: don't go rambling out loud before anyone ever again (they think I'm crazy, I can see it in their faces… so much for making a good first impression).
"Shit, Heidi!" Max chortled, "Where'd you learn all that mumbo jumbo?"
An ungraceful red blotched my cheeks once more, "I've researched about the effects of being on the front lines ever since the expedition last July… the soldiers in the hospital I worked at suffered extensive shock and many of the symptoms I described. If that's happening to men and women in their twenties and thirties, imagine the effect it'd have on young children."
"Yikes, woman!" Gerger exclaimed, "You some kind of genius or something? Should be working for the king, if you ask me!"
I didn't think it was possible, but my face managed to flush even brighter (I think I resembled a tomato at this point). Max, spotting the expression on my face, gasped, "Oh, no way! You worked for the king?"
"N-Not necessarily!" I defended, flushing to the tips of my ears, "I only treated a few of the royals when they thought they had the flu – it was really only a miniscule cold, but they were under the impression that they were on death's door, and when they recovered they demanded I stay and work there and then the Dawks and my parents came to an agreement that Nile would let me go work there after we were married but I didn't want to be married so I sold everything and packed up and resigned and headed south and-" I cut myself, suddenly aware of the way I'd been rambling, probably speaking too fast for them to hear (I have a habit of doing that when I get nervous).
"You're getting married?" my hazel eyed friend gasped, eyes wide.
"No! No, I'm not! I'm only nineteen!" I blurted out, panicking at the sceptical look on her face, "I promise I only ran away because I wanted to come and help the people who actually need it, it's not as though I was having an affair with anyone and wanted to run from Nile like those court ladies would say-" I cut myself off again, dropping my burning face into my cool hands, "I'm such an idiot," I mumbled, leaning down to bang my head on the table (I blame the concussion Max gave me!).
"Poor girl!" Mike laughed, patting my head gently, "Don't get all flustered, Adelheid! You know Max is only stirring you!"
It was then I noticed my friend laughing beside me, "For a genius, you're still as much as an idiot as you were eight years ago!"
I narrowed my eyes, "You are a cruel human, Maxine Kauffman." She made me look like a bumbling fool!
"I couldn't agree more," came a smooth, monotonous voice from behind me. I turned to see two men, one quite short (though not as short as me) with dark hair, the other quite tall with blond hair and blue eyes. He looked familiar somehow. I couldn't tell who'd spoken.
"Training already, Captain Smith?" Ilse whined, her pout registering at the corner of my eye.
The blond man nodded, and began turning away, "Wait, sir!" Max called out, a strange tone to her voice. His shoulders stiffened, and he spared a glance our way. "This is Heidi. She's a new recruit-"
"We don't have time for your antics today, Kauffman," came the smooth voice of the shorter man, looking bored, "we've got to go through drills."
Max poked her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry. My eyes widened at the gesture – he was obviously her superior, perhaps a Captain or a Corporal – but he made no move to punish her. He must have been used to her reckless side.
The team around me rose, waving their goodbyes and leaving me to eat in peace. So here I am now, finishing up my morning meal, running out of lead, and in desperate need of a coffee. Perhaps I'll ask Max where to find one later.
Later, bunker 221
I think I'm dying.
I'm showing all the signs. My heart is suffering many palpitations, my pupils are dilated, breathing comes only with intense difficulty and my body aches terribly.
Fitness is obviously not my forte.
There I was standing in the training courtyard I'd been directed to after breakfast, dressed in a fitting uniform to match the other members of the legion, waiting for an instructor to arrive. When a man named Simon approached me, I knew my impending doom strode alongside him. His greying hair was neatly arranged to fall to his shoulders, his uniform scuffled slightly, but not pin-straight. He was strictly business, here to train and get me in my best form.
After brief introductions, he ordered me to run a few laps of the Headquarters. To my surprise, he ran with me, a comfortable silence brewing between us. The running itself wasn't all that hard (being a doctor, I'm always on my feet, hurrying about to run errands), but the speed which he demanded was ridiculous – for my first day of training that is.
I was driven to the ground (literally – what, I fell a few times, so sue me!) for an hour or so before he finally chose to relent the sprint and fall back to the training grounds. The open plain that the rest of the training members were practicing their titan slaying skills to keep fit resembled what I'd heard the outside world looked like (wide, open, grassy, with few trees and occasional shrubbery). Simon led me to an obstacle course made of wood and ropes.
"Your biggest advantage is speed and agility," he told me, nodding to the course, which looked quite like the children's playground back in Karanese (only on a larger scale), "I want you do start from the beginning, head to the opposite end, and get back here in four minutes.
"Four minutes?" I asked, already feeling the fatigue from the morning run, "What if I don't make it?"
His hard grey eyes stared at me, daring me to get above the limit, "If you do, I'll make you try again and again until you get it done today."
It sounded too much like a threat for me to be comfortable.
"Go."
I bolted in the direction of the wooden ladder, scurrying up as a squirrel would a tree. My limbs felt heavy, like bags of sand were weighing me down, but I quickly edged along the high wooden beam (repeating 'don't look down, just don't look down' as a mantra in my head as I did so) before teetering down the other beam of slanted wood that lead to a series of elevated stepping stones.
I hopped quickly over the short distance, barely needing to duck for the next series of low beams. I probably shouldn't have, but I paused at the next obstacle, knowing I wouldn't reach the set of monkey bars by merely jumping. With a huff I doubled back to the last low beam and climbed atop it, gouging the distance between where I stood and the nearest bar. It was about two and a half metres, but I lunged for it anyway.
I didn't have time to celebrate my victory as I hurried to make it along the bars and swing to the other side. Next was a net that I was forced to lay on my stomach to get under. I got tangled a few times, and almost screamed at the ridiculous amount of dirt caking on my knees and elbows, but I made it out nevertheless, heading on to the last obstacle, the large wooden wall, with nothing but a rope to help me climb it.
I cursed my feeble upper body strength. I have no idea how I managed it, but somehow I made it to the top of the wall, and was set to head back the way I came. In my haste to get down, I practically fell down the wall into the sandy section meant specifically for idiots like me. From there I sloppily dashed back the way I came, almost tripping over my own feet as I made it back, huffing and puffing.
"H-How'd I go?" I managed to blurt out, doubled over, hands clutching at my stomach.
"Twelve minutes and forty seconds."
And so began the hours of hell.
I did the course so many times I think I might accidentally run there and do it in my sleep (I sleep walk sometimes… I can't help it…). As night began to fall I finally managed to get my time somewhere around six minutes.
Simon was set to make me go another round, but I was saved by the timely appearance of the familiar tall blond man, telling the trainer that his attendance was required in the Commander's office. The older man nodded to me, "Well done, Grünberg. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
It was harder than I thought not to heave a groan.
When he left it was just me (doubled over, still struggling from my last run), and the blond man.
"I'm Erwin," he said suddenly, prompting me to raise my sweaty head to look at him.
"A-Adelheid," I huffed, forcing myself upright, "Is if even possible to do that course in f-four minutes?" I asked him, clutching at a stitch in my side.
Instead of replying in words, he set off to the obstacles at a run, bounding through each one with a practiced ease I envied more than anything. He didn't hesitate once, and managed to power to the end and back in no more than two minutes – two minutes!
I slammed my palm into my face, imagining what an idiot I must've looked like, struggling with the very basics of the training.
His deep laugh sent my cheeks burning into a fit of red, and I slowly moved my hand from my face, grinning sheepishly, "Everyone must think I'm a fool."
"Yes, I'm afraid so," he said, not unkindly. Well, at least he's honest.
"Would you please be so kind as to direct me towards somewhere I can wash up?" I asked, gesturing to my horridly dirty clothes. He nodded, and began striding back to the Headquarters. I am ashamed to admit that I struggled to keep up with him (what, his legs are almost twice the length of mine!).
He led me to the female bathing rooms, motioning as to where I could find clean towels and robes (which both had to be set in the washing basket when I was done). After thanking him profusely, I headed into the room, closing it behind me. There was no lock, though I assumed all women had access and all men knew to stay out. I stripped out of the filthy clothes and dropped them into the basket of unwashed clothes, heading to the strangely set water pump.
Tentatively, I stepped under the elevated tap, grasped the long handle and pumped it up and down a few times. The tap gushed a few bouts of freezing cold water, and I squealed girlishly (I hope no one heard!), but it succeeded in getting most of the surface grime off me and out of my hair. The baths were already hot.
As I was about to step in, my fantasticnew luck decided to play into action (note my sarcasm).
The door at the far end of the large room swung open, allowing a dashing stream of sweaty women in, laughing and shouting boisterously. They'd have gone on without noticing my presence had Max not stepped in last and taken it upon herself to bellow unceremoniously to the world, "Heidi's got tits, Heidi's got tits, Heidi's got tits, na-na-na-na-na!" in a singsong voice.
The troop of men who were on the way past the room towards the men's baths happened to glance in at her proclamation of my lady parts. I squealed (I think I'm turning into a pig with all these noises I make?) and literally jumped into the bath, hiding under the water for as long as I dared. When I peeked over the side of the metal tub, there was quite the ruckus over at the door. Erwin and the short man with dark hair were blocking off the entranceway with their bodies, shoving the men back from the door as Max bent over behind them, laughing hysterically, slapping her knee at the hilarity of it all.
I could feel my face heating up, tears of embarrassment burning at my eyelids.
The catcalls were mortifying.
Finally, the short man managed to shove Erwin out as crowd control before slamming the door shut, turning to face Max with a vaguely amused stare.
As tears prickled at my eyes, I covered my face with my hands – if they saw me crying I'd be an even bigger laughing stock.
"Hey, Heidi!" Max laughed loudly. I didn't reply, unsure of my voice. "Hey, don't be like that! C'mon, it was just a little teasing!"
Teasing? Teasing? THEY SAW MY BREASTS, I DON'T THINK THAT IS CLASSIFIED AS TEASING.
To my horror, my bottom lip began to quiver and my hands began to shake.
No, no, no, no!
But my stupid eyes refused to obey me, and before I knew it I was crying. I briefly contemplated drowning myself then and there. Thankfully, the other women were stripping down and continuing to talk, oblivious to the childish tears I was shedding.
"Aw, honey," Max murmured as she approached, "shh, I didn't mean to upset you."
I continued to bawl, refusing to lift my head as she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. Another pair of footsteps neared and I tensed, hoping the person would leave before she knew I was crying like a baby.
"If it's any consolation," my hazel eyed tormentor said, a grin in her chirpy voice, "you have nice boobs! Doesn't she have a nice pair of girls, Levi?"
My head shot up at the decisively masculine name, eyes zoning in on the form of the short man, his cold blue eyes trained determinedly on my face. I was too shy to bring my hands up to cover myself, so I slowly bent my knees until they covered my chest. He looked away suddenly, ignoring the other naked women strolling about.
"It's not a big deal to be seen naked around here," Max comforted, "everyone's seen everyone else's junk at one point or another."
"I-It's a big deal for me," I managed, my voice small as I buried my hot face in my hands again, "I looked like the biggest numpty."
Max laughed at that, "On the contrary, you looked quite the seductress, blonde hair cascading over your shoulder, sopping wet from the-"
"Don't torture her so, Kauffman," Levi intervened, his gaze still trained anywhere but me, "she's obviously uncomfortable about it. Just drop it."
My friend went unusually silent, and a quick peek from my hands revealed her in a stare off with the young man. With both their attention diverted, I let my hands rest on my knees, grateful for the warmth the water provided.
"I'll make sure none of the men bother you about this incident," his smooth voice murmured, and it took me a few seconds to realise his statement was directed at me (yeah, top notch reflexive mind of a brilliant scholar such as myself… *cough*idiot*cough*). I met his exceptionally stoic face, and strained a smile in thanks, but said nothing more.
It remains one of the most embarrassing incidents I have ever had the misfortune to experience. After Captain Levi Rivaille departed, I bathed at the speed of light (okay, not that fast, but faster than the slow, luxurious pace of my old baths), hopped out and dried in a wink. I dressed in a clean uniform that Max had brought me as a peace offering (she got my size right, so I guess she was forgiven for her troublemaking), and headed off to the Commander's office, hoping he was available to talk to.
I knocked three times (as was the etiquette in the inner district of Sina), and after his shout of 'enter', I stepped into the warm room.
"Ah, good evening, Grünberg," he greeted from behind his desk, "take a seat."
I did as he bid, setting myself on the edge of my seat, thumbs twiddling absentmindedly in my lap, "Good evening, sir."
"About to head to dinner?" he asked casually, taking a sip of his tea. I nodded, and he set the cup back in the saucer, and the saucer back on the desk, "What can I do for you?"
"Well," I began, "you must get out in the sun as often as you can manage. Every night, sleep with your window open despite the cold – as long as your body is kept warm, you'll be fine. The cold air aids the lungs greatly. You'll need a tablespoon of honey after every meal, and twenty minutes of exercise a day."
He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what I'd said over his joined hands, "No medicine?" he quizzed, brow quirked.
"No, sir. Your condition is quite good, but I'm sure that lung congestion can't be comfortable. I use medication primarily for those injured in action, and only ever to alleviate pain," I really hoped I wasn't talking too fast for him to understand.
After a moment he nodded, "Hmm, I see."
"You'll need to do this for between three days to a week – if the symptoms prevail, then notify me and I'll examine you," my nerves eased away as my 'doctor's voice' was activated (my doctor's voice is the only time when my mouth takes primary control and refuses to take anyone's bullshit – in a professional manner, of course. It's also the only time I can trust whatever my mouth is spurting).
"Very well," Schreiber hummed, "I assume you don't need any further medical training from our own experience. There's typically no fully trained doctors here, we're frequents at the hospital in Rose."
I shook my head, "No, that's not right, sir. I'd love to talk to the soldiers about their experiences with treating wounds. It's always good to learn new things from those who've been in the business longer than you."
He cracked a smile at that, "Indeed. In terms of funding, I'm afraid the taxes don't cover medical expenses, so we'll have to use funds from either uniforms or meal times to buy supplies."
It was my turn to smile, "No funds are needed, sir. I came preparing to fund the medical portion of this legion myself. Being a doctor means a significant amount of money."
"Are you proposing that you individually pay for the supplies you use, Grünberg?" the Commander didn't seem too pleased at that, "If that is so, I'm afraid I cannot let that happen."
"Why not, sir?" I frowned, "It's entirely legal. I'm willing and able, and I have more money in my account than I could ever hope of spending in a lifetime."
"Thousands of dollars are spent by each injured man in hospitals. Your money won't be enough to fund every soldier that gets injured," his face was stern.
"By all due respect, sir, I'm not sure you understand just why they are charged that much," I began, sitting up a little straighter, "men who die immediately are a minority in the case of most expeditions. The men who die on the journey from blood loss, infection or illness make up the other large portion. Those few who make it back with injuries or infection are on the brink of death, meaning more attention is focused on them within the confines of the hospital. The trauma they experience is key in their treatment, and so they remain hospitalised for extended periods of time. The fact that they take up bedspace for mental ailments means they're charged ridiculous amounts."
I met the old man's dark stare with a firm stare of my own, "I have enough money to renovate the Hospital Wing, meaning the soldiers won't condemn their families to poverty with the rubbish healthcare system. I have enough money to buy supplies for another century if every single member of the legion fell ill, was overridden with infection, and suffered several amputations simultaneously. Do you understand how much money I speak of, Commander Schreiber?"
His eyes narrowed, and she shook his head, "I think it is you who misunderstands, Grünberg. A couple of millions will be gone in a year, it's not logical nor sustainable."
I felt exceedingly smug as I sat opposite him, and I wondered what it would be like to pursue a career in law (proving people wrong must be one of the best feelings I have ever experienced).
"I'm not talking a couple of millions," I shot back, "I'm talking a few hundred billion, sir."
The satisfaction of his widening eyes had me so smug I could barely breathe. I hope I didn't look like a giddy little school girl (because let me tell you, I sure felt like one). He was speechless.
"Let me explain how, sir," I said, struggling to contain my sheepish grin, "I'm the lone child of both Grünberg doctors, and they've been depositing large sums of money into an account for me long before I was even born. I've worked as a doctor for only three years now, but the people I've treated live within Wall Sina, and thrust large cheques into your care as long as you guarantee to make them better. I earned a ridiculous sum of money from treating members of the royal family – as in several dozen billion."
The room fell into a slightly stiff silence, where the Commander did little but stare at me.
"I'm willing to make donations to any other aspect of the legion that needs funding. I can cover the breeding and expenses of maintaining the horses and whatnot. Yes, actually, I'll do that too. And I can cover the repairs unit of equipment also," his eyes got wider and wider, and for a moment I feared he would kneel over and die in shock.
"…sir…?"
He shook himself out of his daze, clearing his throat, "Your aid would be immensely appreciated, Adelheid Grünberg. I cannot… I cannot thank you enough."
I smiled at him and stood, "If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll go have dinner and then proceed to write up an agreement between us. Is lunchtime tomorrow a good time to come past and sign everything?"
He nodded, "Enjoy your dinner." I spun on my heel and was about to leave, but his voice stopped me in my tracks, "I only ask one thing of you." I turned around as he spoke, "Teach the soldiers the basics of self-maintenance, both in terms of illness and injuries."
"Yes, sir," I saluted, "I just ask one favour in return."
He cocked his head to the side, awaiting my request.
"Make it protocol to bathe at least twice a week when no practice is taking place," I said, "make it a rule that the soldiers must bathe after every practice and every expedition or small mission. The highest cause of disease is uncleanliness, and I don't see why we shouldn't evade any illness before it strikes."
The Commander nodded and I was free to be on my way. I was late to dinner, but Max had saved me a seat as well as set me a tray of food. I think she felt bad for what happened that afternoon. I quietly greeted the others on the table, nodding to the same group that had been there that morning.
"So, Heidi," Mike snickered, leaning his elbows on the table, "about this afternoon-"
My face felt as though it burst into flames, but before he could continue his sentence, someone stepped up behind him and shoved his face down into the mush of mash potatoes on his plate. I flushed even further as Levi held the troublesome brunet down, flashing me the smallest of grins before he released his friend and continued walking on his way.
Hanji burst into a fit of laughter at sniffy guy's expression, and even I couldn't supress a giggle as a gob of potato remained caught in his goatee.
"How did your training go, Heidi?" Ilse asked, shovelling a spoonful of rice into her mouth.
The sigh that exited my mouth was long, loud and drawn out.
They laughed.
"I think I'm destined to be cannon fodder," I confessed quietly to Keji.
Beside me Max roared in laugher, thumping my back so hard I was sure it was going to break.
"Don't worry about it!" Hanji soothed, "You will get better with practice! Physical abilities don't really matter outside the wall if you stay with the cargo, all you need to do is ride a horse well."
Ah. Horses. My good friend the horse. Mr horse. Hmm. Yes.
Too bad I've never ridden one.
Ilse seemed to read this on my face, but she laughed nervously in denial, "Yeah, riding horses is really great, especially at high speeds, isn't it Adelheid?"
Yeah, it's great wHEN YOU ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO RIDE A HORSE.
The spectacular grimace I displayed was answer enough, and the whole table seemed to groan simultaneously.
"Whoops," I giggled, fearing for my safety and then –
"I'll teach you how to ride."
I froze at the voice behind me.
"Levi?" Hanji gaped, eyes wide, "Y-You're going to teach her?"
I turned as he set his icy stare on her, "That's what I said, Shitty Glasses."
I felt the stares of everyone on my back, and I flushed an ungodly red as they all waited for my reply with bated breath.
"Th-thank you," I spluttered(such eloquence, I know), cursing my splotchy face and jittery nerves.
Wait, I can hear someone coming! I'll write later!