When Eren did get to cook he always had company.

Armin and Mikasa would stay whenever they could— Armin chatting away, Mikasa cutting vegetables or peeling potatoes, anything to make herself useful. When they were called away for one chore or another Jean would arrive to yell at him, Connie to bother him, Sasha to beg, Krista to tease, Ymir pulling her back by her hair, Auruo followed in Jean's footsteps (so long as his insults didn't actually deny him food), Petra eventually came in looking for Auruo, Eld wanted a taste, Gunther wanted two ("You owe me, Eren!"), Levi avoided the kitchen entirely, no doubt because Eren tended to get messy when he worked.

At least, that's what Eren assumed.

Even when the others were busy though there was always one silent, warm presence at his back: Mike.

He said he liked the smells.

"Sure you don't want to try it?" Eren asked. He held out a spoon dotted with sauce but Mike just shook his head.

"Things never taste they same way they smell," he said.

"Yeah, guess not. I've heard coffee's like that anyway."

"Mmmm." Mike leaned away so that the memory of coffee wouldn't be swept up in the scent of Eren's—admittedly delicious—dinner. "As a squad leader I'm paid a reasonable amount, enough for a treat every season or so, if the merchants aren't being dicks." Eren stilled. It was probably the most Mike had said to him at once, so of course that was the time the pasta water decided to boil. Loudly.

"I tried coffee once," Mike continued, immune to Eren's frantic movements. "I'd gone into the interior to make a report and one of the MPs wanted to kiss ass. He gave me a cup. I've toyed with the idea of splurging for another ever since."

"Is it really that expensive?"

"I've heard that only one district has the plants that grow the beans and that the process itself is incredibly time consuming." Eren nodded, remembering the long hours he'd spent preserving foods as a child. Anything truly delicious took time. "Generally only the royal family and the highest ranking officers have access to it. Pixis or Erwin could probably get their hands on some."

"Really?" Stirring, Eren smiled. He had a sudden, vivid image of presenting something that rare and wonderful to Corporal Levi. Maybe then he wouldn't be so sour about the whole roots thing.

"Does the Corporal like coffee?" he asked, still stirring innocently. Mike side-eyed him anyway.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason! Just thought it would be cool if we could get him some. You know."

"Uh… huh." Mike was silent for a time before he abruptly threw his arm around Eren's shoulders. Everyone was used to him getting close for a whiff but beyond that he generally avoided physical contact. Eren staggered. Part of it was the unexpectedness of the action, but mostly it was just because Mike was huge and his arm was seriously heavy.

Mike just grinned and patted Eren's head a couple of times. "I don't know about 'we,'" he said. "But I'm sure the Corporal would love getting some coffee from you, Eren."

"… Really?"

"You bet! So what do you say? Gonna give it a go?"

"… yes? Yes! Yeeees…?"

"Great. Looking forward to it. Oh and give me a holler when dinner's ready. I want to grab a plate early, before Auruo gets in and steals it all."

Mike left, which in and of itself was odd because he always stuck around for all of the cooking. He left Eren with sauce on his apron and an angry pot of boiling water, wondering what the hell had just happened and why the hell he'd just agreed to give his Corporal an impromptu coffee-present.

Of course, he would like to give Levi something. A gift to act as a thank-you of sorts: thank-you for allowing me into the Survey Corps. Also for not allowing me to kill anyone as a raging titan. Also for not killing me either. Yet. That kind of stuff just seemed like it needed acknowledging.

Jean's voice was still ringing in his ears too. Eren didn't believe for a second that Levi "doted" on him, even if everyone did point out how Armin was given three weeks cleaning duty for his part in their escapade while Eren was only told to serve dinner—something he was happy to do anyway. That still wasn't "doting." But Eren wouldn't mind doing the doting himself a bit, not if it were for Levi. Sometimes, what with everything going on in their lives, it really seemed like he needed it.

Coffee then. It was perfect. Of course, Eren was still left wondering how in the world he was supposed to get some.

Days later, Commander Pixis outright laughed at him when Eren asked.

"Coffee!" He chortled. "Well now. Can't say it's my drink of choice but even if it were, that stuff's hard to come by. What do you want coffee for anyway? You're young enough that you don't need the caffeine."

"Caffeine?" Eren blinked.

"Chemicals, kiddo. Helps keep you awake."

"Oh." That really was perfect then. Not only was coffee supposed to taste fabulous but the Corporal was always complaining about how little sleep he got. He claimed it was because 'hormone-driven subordinates' kept him up at night. When Eren realized what the Corporal meant by that he'd blushed so hard Hanji thought titan steam was going to start coming off his cheeks.

"You do know how expensive coffee is, don't you, Eren?" Commander Pixis knelt down, smiling at him. He only seemed amused at the extravagant request.

"Yes, sir. I do, sir. And I'll give you my wages every month until I've repaid you. With interest!"

"Now, now, I don't think that's necessary. We need Humanity's Hope to have money for his own expenses, right?" The chuckling resumed. "You still haven't answered my question though. Why the sudden interest in coffee? Young'un like you, I'd expect a request for chocolate or some other sweet."

Eren's mouth watered at the mere possibility but he stood his ground. "No, sir. Just coffee. And it's not for me, sir. I'd like to give it as a gift to Corporal Levi. As a thank-you."

"Ooooooooh. Now I see. A thank-you, is it?" Commander Pixis began laughing again and Eren wondered exactly what was so funny about this situation. "Well I truly am sorry, Eren, but I'm afraid I can't help you." Suddenly, every bit of humor dropped from the Commander's expression. "There's no reason for you to have known this, but the only district that grew the beans was a victim in the latest breach." Eren's stomach dropped. "They weren't decimated—strong lot we've got out there—but it will take time to rebuild and—"

"The fields won't be usable for a while," Eren finished. "Not after the titan corpses have polluted the soil." Commander Pixis nodded. "I see."

"Now don't go looking so down, Eren. We need that smile of yours as much as we need your titan power. Maybe more." Pixis rose to his feet and brushed dirt from the tops of his boots. "You want to give that sour-mouthed shorty a gift? Well no one said it has to be coffee. He'll enjoy anything you give him, though whether he'll admit as much is another matter entirely." The chuckling came back again full force but Eren just gave a sharp nod, trying not to show his frustration.

"Oh don't give me that look, kid. C'mon." Pixis began leading Eren back towards the room he'd been staying in while visiting the troops. As they walked he pulled his familiar flask from the inside pocket of his jacket. "I've got a bottle of vine tucked away that's older than your grandfather, Eren. I thought of opening it the day you moved that boulder but I just couldn't bring myself to. With some things joy comes in having it"—he took a long swing from the flask—"for others it's just knowing that you could have it that makes it worthwhile. If I couldn't open that gem when we took back Trost then I doubt I'll ever be able to. Not unless the rest of our vine dries up, and wouldn't that be a damn shame." Commander Pixis offered the flask to Eren who resolutely shook his head. "You're welcome to the bottle, Eren. If you'll have it, it's yours."

"Wha—? Really?" Eren halted. "But, Commander. That's, I can't—"

A firm hand slapped his back. "Sure you can! You deserve it, and don't try telling me otherwise. Drink it yourself or give it to Humanity's Shortest. Maria knows he could do with a drink."

"T-thank you, sir! I will, sir!"

Commander Pixis winked, opening his door and beginning to ruffle through his bags. "Don't you worry now, Eren. Mark my words. Levi will love it."

"What kind of shit is this?"

It was clear that Levi didn't love it.

"It's… for you, sir." It was also clear that he wasn't going to take the bottle so Eren hesitantly placed it on the desk. Levi didn't exactly sneer at it, but it was a near thing.

"I don't drink, brat."

Oh.

Eren felt his cheeks heating. Still, it was an honest mistake. How was he to have known that the Corporal didn't drink? And yet the look Levi was giving him said that he should have known.

"I don't drink," he growled. "You don't drink—"

"Well yeah, sir. I'm fifteen…" The Military Police still enforced the traditional drinking age of twenty-one, but only within the interior. No one really cared if a kid had a bit of vine or not. If they could manage getting ahold of some, then good on them. The only alcohol in the Yeager household had been what his father had used to sterilize wounds and Eren had been forbidden to touch it. His first taste had come from Commander Pixis up on top of the wall (sour and burning the lining of his throat) and it hadn't endeared him to alcohol much. It seemed cruelly fitting then that once again the Commander's attempts to be kind to him would backfire, though that still didn't seem fair. He'd been assured that Levi would appreciate the thought behind the gift even if he disliked the gift itself and… oh wow. He was still glaring.

"Corporal?"

"No. Wrong." One finger poked at the bottle's cork. "Your age hasn't got shit all to do with it, Yeager. None of use drink. We're not the Garrison and we sure as fuck aren't the MPs. We're soldiers, or have you forgotten?" Eren shook his head. "Then use that lump of meat between your ears and answer me this: what would happen if we were drinking and suddenly needed to suit up?" Levi paused, allowing the consequences of such a scenario to sink in. "Or worse, brat. We're outright drunk and there's another breach in the wall."

"Shit." Eren said.

"Damn right, 'shit.'" Abruptly Levi turned the bottle and peered suspiciously at the label. "Where the hell did you get this thing anyway? It's ancient…. and covered in dust…" His fingers scrunched with distaste.

"The Commander. Ah, that is, Commander Pixis, sir. Not Erwin."

Levi snorted. "No shit it wasn't Erwin. Sina help us. He's handing it out by the bottle now, is he?" He gripped said bottle by the neck, lifting it up. "So. What did you want for this anyway?"

"…Sir?"

Levi looked up briefly, only to drop his eyes just as fast. "You don't need to bribe me, Eren. Really. If you want something just damn well ask for it."

Eren straightened and his words came out as firm as his resolve. "No bribery, sir. It's a gift. To thank you for… for…" he felt the heat again, up high on his neck now. "Just for everything, sir."

Eren had been looking out the window behind Levi's head but now he dared to look down. His corporal was still holding the bottle of vine. Staring at it.

"Everything?" he questioned. "What exactly is it that I've done for you, Eren? Tell me, because I'm curious." Levi didn't give him a chance to speak though. His fingers tensed around the bottle's throat. "I beat you up. Accepted you into a position that's going to result in your death. Spoke insensitively about cutting off your limbs, demanded that you fix a situation you had no more power or understanding of than I did, handed you over to that shitty four-eyes like you were a slab of meat..." Levi's other hand rose up to cradle his cheek. He continued to stare stonily at the vine. "I did keep you from being dissected by those pig bastards. Suppose that's something."

"It is, sir." Eren hastened to say. He'd never seen the Corporal like this, tired and speaking like he'd go on speaking, unflinchingly, even if Eren were to leave. He was pretty sure he didn't like it.

"You're also the only one, sir." He added. "In the beginning at least, the only who didn't view me as a monster."

"You are a monster." Eren winced.

"Yes, sir. But…" Eren took a deep breath, trying to stem the trembling in his chest. "You said it had nothing to do with my titan powers. That I'm a monster because no one can control me, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm uncontrollable." Levi's eyes rose, almost tentatively. "I don't think 'monster' means the same thing to you as it does to everyone else. Sir." Eren swallowed.

They stood in silence for a long breath. Eren standing tall, Levi finally looking at instead of through him.

"Well fuck if you're not smarter than your dumbass face suggests. Fine. C'mere." Levi straightened his arm and extended the bottle, shaking it when Eren didn't immediately take it back. "I had a dinner in the interior once you know. They fed me chicken that was dry as a virgin's ass, but the sauce was sinful. Had an alcohol base—apparently. So do better. Go forth and do what you do best, brat. Work yourself to the bone if it gives you that tingling feeling down south. You wanna impress me? Go right ahead. At least this way the other brats will get fed too."

"Yes, sir!" Eren took the vine back, grinning. The atmosphere… it was lighter now. His fingers brushed Levi's as the bottle was passed and there was no urgent need to pull away. "It's a bit like Mike's experience, isn't it?" he added. "He said an MP tried to bribe him with coffee."

"Same dinner, genius."

"Oh. Well, that's really what I wanted to get you, sir." Eren admitted. "Coffee."

"Cof—?" Levi stilled. "You are insane. Do you have any idea… Get the fuck out. No—out. Now. Fuck it all if you think I have time to deal with your insanity. Just… out. And Eren? No more gifts."

Levi waved him away sharply and turned back to his paperwork. The slightly hollow look about him had returned more quickly than Eren would have thought possible. The word "gifts" came out a little softer than it should have and Levi's hand on the paper wasn't quite as steady. So it was that for the first time Eren didn't answer his Corporal's order with a resounding, "Yes, sir!"

He snuck out of the room, suspiciously silent, and hoped that Levi didn't notice.

They didn't have any chicken—not even chicken dry as a virgin's ass—but they had enough salad to fill the serving bowl three times over. More than enough for everyone, twice as much since it was only Levi's squad tonight. Eren collected the freshest leaves and shredded the last of their carrots. He baked bread for a side and filled up all the blank spaces with nuts and seeds in an attempt to make up for their lack of meat. All of it was then drenched in a hot salad dressing, the vine so delightfully potent that it had Levi pausing over the first bite. He nodded at Eren and began working at—delicately—out eating Auruo. He seemed a little more relaxed now. Eren supposed that time, even a few hours, would do that.

"It's magic," Eld moaned. "I never thought I'd like salad so much. Eren. You're sure you're not a wizard or something?"

Eren placed down another jug and it was immediately set upon. He'd boiled the rest of their tea and, when it came out weak, just overlapped the flavors with mint he'd found out in the garden. Everyone was enjoying that too, if the trips to the bathroom were anything to go by.

"Take that up with the MPs," he said. "One of my guards thought my titan transformation was magic, you know. I always keep herbs on me when there's a battle or even when we're just training." Eren patted the inside pocket of his shirt, hidden under his apron. "Mainly those that help against pain, some for energy too though. Anyway, no one found them when I was first locked up so when I was alone with this guard at one point I, ah, 'accidentally' dropped them while washing." He bit his lip to keep from chortling. "I've… never seen anyone call for backup that fast."

Levi set down his fork. "When the hell was this?"

"Not really sure." Eren said brightly. He scooted more salad onto his Corporal's plate. "Sometime before the trail, obviously. I'm not even sure how long I was in there though."

"Four days. Fuck, Eren. Were you trying to ensure your execution?" Levi stabbed a bit of carrot viciously.

"I take it the 'backup' was a little more levelheaded. You weren't burned at the stake or anything." Petra smiled up at him.

"Yep. They seemed to realize that this guy was crazy superstitious. Didn't even bother reporting it to the higher ups—hey!"

Hanji had finished her own plate in record time and was now pawing at Eren's chest. One might have thought that she was trying to tear his clothes off… which was pretty much what she was trying to do.

"Hanji! No, stop, what are you—Corporal! Help!"

"We're eating, brat." Levi said. "Don't shout at the table."

It was only when Eren's apron was gone and his shirt was halfway up to his ears that Hanji pulled back. She clasped his packet of herbs triumphantly.

"Ooooo, Eren." She gushed. "Look at you! Cooking, doctoring… I sense a love of order. You're a scientist at heart, I know it! You should really let me teach you."

"No. Please no." Gunther muttered. "There can't be two." Hanji ignored him, carefully opening up the packet to peer inside.

"Ah! Look at all this! Milkweed, Honeysuckle, shredded briar and… oh. What's this one?" she held up a springy plant with purple buds. It drooped heavily between her fingers.

"Don't touch that!"

Eren's shout startled them all. Some just dropped their utensils, others gripped their forks like weapons. Eren made use of the confusion to snatch the plant out of Hanji's hand, debated a moment, and then hid it stubbornly behind his back. One might have thought Eren was embarrassed… except that the tops of his arms were shaking and an uncomfortable sweat was beading his brow.

"Eren?" Levi prompted.

"It's… Night's Flower," he admitted, wincing when everyone went still. "It's a poison. So please don't play with it. Just one bud will—"

"We know what it is, Eren." Petra's voice came out higher than usual. "At least I do. Though I've never seen it before…" Eren nodded and swallowed.

"I traded a lot of food for it," he whispered. "A bit of cloth too. But I didn't want…" he hesitated, then surged onward with a shaky breath. "Not everyone dies quickly," he announced. "I'm not saying we should give up! No, but what if you're bleeding out? Or you've lost your horse? If you're surrounded or—"

"Eren." Levi interrupted him. After a beat he resumed eating, silently commanding everyone else to do the same. Forks returned to being tools. A moment later his voice came again, even and soothing. "Every one of us keeps a sheathed dagger in our boots. We understand."

"What?"

Instinctually Eren glanced towards Hanji's legs. She nodded, drawing hers out just enough for him to see. It was small, only slightly larger than a pocket-knife, but more than enough to cut rope… or a throat, if need be. With a soft apology she handed him back the herbs. He quickly hid the Night's Flower away while she made her dagger disappear again.

"Sorry, Eren. Though you should, ah, think of getting one yourself. Plants lose potency." Eren could only nod.

They ate quietly then, the serious turn of conversation hanging over them all. Eren wondered if it would always be like this: happy, simple dinners turning towards death. Gifts for Corporals turning towards… something. He wondered when the turn would come again.

That is, until Eld abruptly gave a tremendous—and obviously fake—yawn.

"Getting really sleepy here, Eren. Reeeeeal sleepy. You sure some of the Night's Flower didn't slip into our meal?"

Commander Pixis arrived at the tail end of dinner, having spent the night finishing a letter to Erwin. He'd heard that Eren would be cooking with his vine—and wasn't that an interesting development?—and thus he expected to find only a small portion of food remaining for him, with his subordinates quietly, diligently eating. Eren's cooking, after all, was becoming quite legendary.

Instead what he found was six soldiers playfully screaming about attempted murder, a titan-shifter defending himself with a butter knife, and a Corporal, the only one still seated, furiously muttering about how he'd never, ever accept a gift from "that damnable brat" again.

Pixis just managed to obtain a serving without losing a limb. On his way back to his room he alternated between filling the halls with laughter and bemoaning the fact that an alcohol dressing couldn't get him drunk.