When Commander Erwin came to visit again everyone expected Eren to cook. Even, it seemed, Commander Erwin.

"Here." Right off his horse Erwin came to stand before Eren. He pulled a small pouch off his belt and plopped it into his hand. Eren's eyes went wide at the shifting texture, but Erwin stopped him before he could even open his mouth.

"Don't go saying you can't accept it. Think of this as a test, but a test where you really can't fail. I just want to see what you can do, Eren." Erwin nodded to the men behind him. "We've brought plenty of produce and even caught some game on the way, so you have plenty to work with. There's some extra sugar too if you'd like it."

"Sir…" Eren was still mesmerized by the feeling beneath his fingers. He subtly pinched the inside of his wrist. "How much did…?"

"It cost? Oh, just my right arm— kidding, Eren! People often give me things and I enjoy giving in return. So scat." He gently turned Eren back towards the kitchen. "Go on. Don't worry about chores or training. I'm giving you the day off to plan and cook."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Hardly breathing Eren ran off as ordered. When he'd gone Levi snuck up behind his superior.

"What are you planning?" He eyed the taller man, but Erwin only shrugged innocently.

"Me? Absolutely nothing."

Eren sat huddled in the back corner of the kitchen. There was one tiny table with three tiny chairs and Mikasa and Armin had claimed two of them. The pouch sat between them on that tiny table, leaving them wide eyed. Hesitantly, Armin extended a finger to poke at the cloth. His nail sunk away, disappearing, and a rustle sounded just like a sigh. The three soldiers sighed in turn.

"Where do you think he got it all?" Armin whispered. Mikasa responded by snatching his hand away.

"I don't care where the Commander got it. This is Eren's chance to show everyone exactly what he can do and they'll finally appreciate it." She stared at the pouch with a disturbingly earnest expression.

"Appreciate…?" Eren's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about Corporal Levi, aren't you? Mikasa we've been over this!"

"I know that third bowl was for him."

"Well yeah, but—"

"And he never once thanked you, did he? All that work and he's not the least bit grateful. Even Sasha has better manners."

"Mikasa, he gave me a cake." But she wasn't listening.

"I saw you last week, Eren. He said something in town that upset you, yet a few hours later you're—you're… positively catering to him." Mikasa took hold of Eren's hands. She squeezed and squeezed until he gasped. "Eren. That asshole doesn't appreciate you. He's not worth your affection."

"Affe—?"

"It's about time you go over this foolish crush."

"Crush!" Eren ripped his hands away. "I don't have a crush on the Corporal!"

"Yes you do," Armin said flatly. He shot both of them a sheepish grin. "C'mon. Are you really going to deny it? No, wait. Seriously, just hear me out for a second, both of you. You do have a crush, Eren. Maybe... more than a crush…?" Armin waved at them. He sat up imploringly. "No—Listen! You do and I think that's okay! I mean, look at where we're living." His voice suddenly dropped and his arms opened, encompassing not just the kitchen but also everything within the walls and outside them. "Guys, seriously. Listen. It's hell out there. We've seen it. Is it really so wrong to cling to a bit of happiness, no matter where we might find it?" Armin turned to Eren. "Even if we don't like the source?" Mikasa. "Eren, beyond destroying all the titans what is it—here and now—that would make you happy?"

Eren hesitated but his answer came out strong. "I want to be useful," he admitted, squirming uncomfortably. "To all of you… but also to Corporal Levi. I want to do something, give him something, that will make him happy too. And I would like him to appreciate me…" he added. To which Mikasa nodded sharply.

"I figured," Armin said kindly. He smiled. "Though for the record I think the Corporal already appreciates you more than either of you realize."

"Then he'd best start showing it," Mikasa growled at the same time that Eren grumbled about it not really being a crush. Not really, really. He toyed with a loose threat and Armin drew their attention back to the pouch before Eren could demolish his whole shirt.

"Let's aim high then." He said gently. "C'mon, Eren. We'll make a meal that'll impress the Commander, the Corporal, and garner everyone's appreciation." Mikasa was still nodding vigorously. "If you can't do it with this then you can't do it at all."

"Right!" Reverently, Eren pulled the string and allowed the pouch to fall open before them. With a sudden, mischievous look he held up a finger until Mikasa and Armin did the same. "A good cook always tests his ingredients," he said. Catching on, all three of them gave their fingers a quick lick before dipping them one by one into the pouch. They came away glistening and with feral intensity they popped the digits into their mouths.

"Salt." Armin moaned. "Sweet Rose, I haven't tasted salt since we were kids!"

Mikasa rocked forward, removing her finger reluctantly. "It tastes like how I imagine the sea would," she said. Then, softly: "We'll get there someday, won't we, Eren?"

"The sea…" he murmured. His eyes flew open, darkening with promise. "Yes. We all will. You, me, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Krista, Ymir… Levi. You can dump him in the ocean and I'll fish him back out. Then we'll both have a bit of happiness. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered.

Armin grinned. "Okay."

"The sea." Eren straightened. "Guys. We need Eld. I know just what we're going to make."

Twenty minutes later the three of them were south of the castle where the only natural stream for miles ran.

"You're insane, Yeager," Eld said, yawning into his cloak. "You have any idea how long it takes to catch one of those buggers? Besides, there are only so many of them left nowadays." He blinked. "Where's Mikasa?"

"Starting the bread. She knows our mom's recipe." Eren hopped to a portion of the stream that was almost entirely free of rocks. "Here, Armin?"

"Looks good!"

Eren grinned over at his bored, dubious chaperone. "C'mon, Eld. You should have more faith in me. Besides, how many titans have tried fishing before?" and with a vicious bite to his hand Eren grew fourteen meters, filling the woods with hot smoke.

It did take a bit of practice, though luckily Armin had been right about Eren's hands being big enough to cover the width of the stream. Every time Armin spotted a dark shadow flitting beneath the water's surface he'd give a holler and Eren would scoop—water, pebbles, weeds, and everything else flying up onto the bank next to Eld ("Would you watch it, Yeager?!")

They left just forty minutes later, positively drenched, but with twelve glistening fish in tow.

For the first time Eren demanded solitude in the kitchen. Having good ingredients could take you far, but not all the way. He didn't know why the Commander wanted to "see what he could do" but Eren was determined to give it his all. Even if he hadn't wanted to impress Erwin, seeing Levi enjoying his meal would be worth it. So what if he… liked Levi a little more than the average subordinate? Armin was right. Was that really such a bad thing? And cooking for his friends—

cooking for Levi—brought Eren a kind of peace that was growing harder to come by. He'd have continued it even if Levi hated him and hated his food, which Eren was pretty sure he didn't. The Corporal wasn't a man to indulge in things he didn't find enjoyable, or at the very least practical. If he didn't appreciate Eren's cooking he'd have given it to someone who did; fed another person who needed it. But he always cleared his plate, that's what Mikasa failed to notice. Appreciation of the silent variety.

Eren supposed the real question was whether it was just about the food. He recalled Mikasa's first attempts at cooking as a child, how he'd forced down her burned bread just to see her smile. Eren wondered, half kicking himself, if Levi would ever clear his plate just because he liked Eren, not because he liked the meal.

So of course, having demanded solitude and while thinking furiously about his Corporal, Eren ended up running right into him.

He'd been chopping onions for the soup, fumes rising up to well tears in his eyes. They stained his cheeks and Eren had long given up on scrubbing them away. When he'd heard footsteps he'd whirled, thinking it was someone sneaking in for a peek or a taste, but it was only Levi. They came an inch from colliding. Eren pulled up the knife he was holding and Levi rocked to keep his balance. He carried the rest of the produce that Erwin had brought.

"Oh. Sorry, sir. You can just set that over th—"

"Who did this?"

Eren jumped back as Levi suddenly stalked forward again. Dropping the crate he flew at him, grasping his shirt to pull them close together. One hand rose to trace the path of the tears on Eren's cheek but Levi stopped just short of touching him.

"Who did this?" he hissed again. Dumbly, Eren noted that his Corporal had the same, intense expression now as when he went into battle. "Was it Kirschtein? Or that sister of yours? I saw her interrogating you, Eren, so don't fucking deny it. You—" Levi's mouth suddenly snapped shut, only to open again in an inhumane growl. "Was it one of Erwin's men? Did they make you cry? Those cocksuckers were making passes at Petra earlier today. I swear on all the walls, Eren, if they've so much as—"

"Wait! Stop!" Eren stumbled backwards until his thighs hit the table. Grasping blindly his thumb caught the edge of the knife, he cursed, threw it, found the onions instead, and thrust them at his superior. A large streak of blood marred the skin before his own flesh began to knit back together.

"Onions!" Eren cried. "Corporal. Corporal. I was chopping onions."

"Onions?" Levi was still growling, still red, but the sounds were tentative now and the angry flush was beginning to creep down to his neck. "You're telling me you cry about onions, you little shit?"

Eren was getting a better sense of the misunderstanding now. Shaking—but not from crying—he bit down on his lip. "No, sir. Onions literally make you cry. When you cut them they release… something. I don't know. Ask Hanji, but they do. I swear. Here," Eren peeled back a layer of skin and held the food directly under his nose. Unbidden, a fresh stream of tears flowed. Eren made sure to keep his smile fixed in place. "No one… upset me, sir. I promise. Really, I'm fine."

"I see." Levi ducked his head and delivered a swift tap to the crate by his feet. "My mistake. Why don't you get back to work then, huh? Stupid brat. We want to eat before the sun comes back up, don't we? I swear I'm surrounded by fucking fools." Levi turned to escape, head still ducked, only to find Erwin standing in his way. He leaned against the doorjamb and his grin was huge.

"Have everything you need, Eren?" he chirped.

"Yes he does." Levi answered for him. His snap was fierce and he left at a brisk pace, snagging Erwin's sleeve as he passed. "Get to work, brat. And don't use those onions. The last thing I want is to ingest your fucking disgusting titan blood."

"Yes, sir!"

So Eren worked, but he did so with his own, tentative smile.

That at least was one questioned answered.

When Eren approached the dining room later that night there was an electrifying mix of excitement and apprehension. He found everyone there, scrunched together around mismatched tables. The 104th at the far end, then Levi's squad, Erwin's men, Erwin, and finally Levi himself, just a foot away at the head of the table. He raised an eyebrow at Eren as if to say, "Aren't you going to serve us, brat?" and the hostility seemed a tad… overdone tonight. That was fine though. Eren understood. Before he could step forward however, Mikasa took him by the arm.

"I'd like everyone to take a moment to thank Eren," she said, loud and clear. Her voice echoed up to the rafters. "All of you." No one missed that she was staring directly at Levi. Everyone began crying out for him though. Eren knew that they were truly grateful for the worked he'd done, but he also wasn't stupid enough to think that this particular gratitude stemmed from anything other than wanting to eat. He shook his head at them all.

"Thanks, Eren!"

"Thank yoooooou."

"I love you, man. So much love."

"—yes, yes thanks and gratitude—"

"T-H-A-N—"

"—can we eat it now?"

Every voice could be heard… except for Levi's. Instead he waited until the idiocy died down and then tipped his chair back. He balanced ridiculously far until he could see Eren behind him and then gave him a firm nod. It was small, but their eyes met and Eren knew that the gesture was well meant.

Mikasa seemed to miss the memo though. It was Eren's turn to grab her as she began to stalk forward.

"He means it," he whispered desperately, directly into her ear. "I can tell, Mikasa. Trust me."

Eren's own words made him blush and Mikasa just gave him a pitying look in return. She did slow though, and eventually sighed. She looked a little as if she'd swallowed one of his lemons.

"I always trust you, Eren."

"Ahem." Commander Erwin leaned forward, interrupting them. "Eren?" he prompted.

"Right! Ah, here we are…" Taking his cue Armin came in with a tray, followed closely by Eld. Both were laden with bowls and baskets of bread. "It's three courses, sir, so please pace yourself."

The excitement in the air grew. "Courses" was a word that hadn't been in anyone's vocabulary for a very long time and hands itched to take up the food. Eren gently steered Mikasa towards her own seat.

"Oh! And please think of the sea." Eren went red again when every head swung his way. He avoided looking at the Corporal. "That is… the sea inspired this meal. Freedom, sir. Retaking our world. Please consider these things as you eat. Thank you."

"Thank you, Eren. A meal with a noble theme." Erwin took up his spoon. "You needn't worry. I'm impressed already."

For the first and only time the Survey Corps were entirely silent as they ate. Eren served a fish stew with diced vegetables, seasoned with local herbs and a large pinch of the Commander's salt. It was accompanied by his famous bread, timed so that it could be eaten directly out of the oven. Eren caught a glimpse of Hanji, normally so animated, breaking open a piece and just sitting, eyes closed as the warmth rose up to tickle her nose.

The second course consisted of the rest of the fish, salt encrusted and sprinkled with the juice of those very expensive lemons. Eren didn't want to overwhelm the dish with too many sides so he added only a bowl of roasted potatoes, topped with a bit of thyme. This was the only course with conversation as comrades helped those who'd never eaten fish before learn how to safely remove the bones. Everyone, amateur and master alike, succeeded in stripping each bit of flesh away.

Dessert had taken the longest. Eren started with a simple crust, flakey and golden from a little butter. He then carefully—oh so carefully—made the caramel, cooking the water and sugar together until they caramelized. He'd actually had to go through this process twice. The first time the sugar burned and the second time he could tell, immediately, that the color just wasn't quite right. By the third time though Eren was able to remove his pot from the fire with a satisfied sigh. The smell that had filled the kitchen assured him that the ingredients he'd wasted had not been sacrificed in vain. The sauce was poured overtop his crust and allowed to harden until just a slight spring remained. Only then did Eren sprinkle a large helping of salt on top. He cut the sweet into tiny pieces, artfully arranging them on the four white plates that had managed to remain unchipped over the years. He thought back to his conversation with Armin and Mikasa—what little bits of happiness was he looking for in their lives? Carrying that dessert out to the hall and presenting it to his friends, Eren identified that as a moment. A little slice of peace.

The treats were gone in minutes.

Erwin finally sat back, fiddling with his ration of tea. All at once he let out a soft laugh and pushed the steaming cup away. He smiled brilliantly up at Eren.

"Normally I'd be all over a cup of tea after dinner but I don't want to erase the taste of your meal," he said. Erwin traced his lips with a finger as everyone nodded. They appeared almost comatose. Auruo, Eld, and Gunther leant together in a single, droopy line. Krista was indulgently being hand-fed the rest of Ymir's dessert. Mike's chin rested on the table, nose an inch from the empty dessert plates. Petra had apparently forgiven Erwin's men for their earlier, lewd comments and languidly shared a hot towel between them to wash their hands. Hanji leant precariously back in her chair, arms hanging, while Sasha scraped the fallen salt out of the wood's crevices. The other girls hung like puppets with cut strings, as did the boys, though they attempted to look drugged in a manly sort of fashion. Mikasa and Armin gave him lazy smiles of congratulations. Only Levi was animated. He reached forward and snatched up Erwin's cup, muttering about how if he didn't want the tea he sure as hell wouldn't let it go to waste. Eren watched as the cup rose to his lips… but Levi's throat never moved. After a moment he set it back down, still full.

"Ahhhhh," Hanji sighed. "I feel like I could discover all of the titans' secrets! Provided I had a good nap first," she winked at Eren.

"Yeah, Yeager." Jean yawned. "After that meal I'll help you reach the sea. Hell, cook like that some more and I'll take you to the other side of the world. We'll just… do it later."

Gunther groaned. "Got it in one, rookie. Later is good."

"Eren is amazing," Mikasa stated sleepily and for the first time everyone simply nodded in acceptance.

"Well, the lot of you are useless." Levi stood and stretched, causing everyone else to moan in sympathy. He glared bleary eyed at them all. "Go to bed, everyone. Nothing else is getting done tonight."

Eren started forward. "But, sir… what about the dishes?"

"Dishes?" Levi's hand twitched, no doubt at the thought of leaving dirty plates to fester all night, but to everyone's shock he shrugged. "Fuck them."

"Wha—! Sir, I can—"

"No you can't, you imbecile. If I'm tired from eating your food than you're dead tired from cooking it. Touch those dishes and I'll hang you up by your thumbs."

Eren blinked. "...Yes, sir."

His friends were passing him by then, rubbing their faces and dragging their feet. Each had a small gesture for him as they went: a wave, a pat, an awkward one-armed hug. One of Erwin's men, a giant stuffed into a Survey Corps uniform, planted a sloppy kiss on the top his forehead. Eren nearly toppled under the force but the guy just straightened him, giving Eren a companionably squeeze before moving off. Only Armin kept his distance. He walked on the other side of the table, behind their superiors. He glanced at Levi and then the dishes piled on the table. He raised an eyebrow at Eren.

Eren frantically waved him off, but not before he gave a tiny nod in return. Yeah. He knew that meant something too. He wasn't that stupid. Hell, he'd hate to see the look Armin would give him if he'd seen Levi's reaction to him crying…

"Oi. Go to bed, Eren." Suddenly hearing Levi's voice made him jump. Eren looked back, but Armin was already gone.

"Okay, sir. Just…" Confirmation couldn't hurt, right? "You, ah, enjoyed the meal?"

Levi and Erwin stared at him until a small, forceful hand shoved him forward.

"Don't ask stupid questions, brat. You're smarter than that…" But Eren didn't move. Finally, Levi rolled his eyes. "It was fucking magnificent. Is that what you want to hear? Sina and Rose, how did I end up with such a narcissist. At least there wasn't any titan blood."

"Titan blood?" Erwin squaked.

Levi stilled, then hunched a bit as memory resurfaced. "You're going to bed now, Yeager," he growled.

"Yes, sir." Eren grinned and beat it before he ruined it.

Again walking that familiar path down to the dungeon Eren felt a heavy numbness covering him like a cloak. He knew that come tomorrow everything would hit him at once. He'd be disgusted with the mistakes he'd made in his own cooking, yet pleased by his friends' praise. There'd be disappointment that there wouldn't be another meal like that for some time to come—if ever—and annoyance at the cleaning they still had to do. Above all there would be embarrassment at Armin's pointed statements, Levi's words… but also a little hope as well.

Sure that he was alone, Eren raised a hand to his cheek, then stopped. He almost touched it, just as Levi almost had. That embarrassment began surfacing about ten hours too early.

In the end Eren stayed awake that night, despite the ache in his shoulders and the grit in his eyes. He sat with his back to the bars and stared at the dungeon wall, imaging that it was a window that he could see the stars through. Eren thought about a lot of things: washing windows and catching deer, useless swords, grilled pancakes, pulling roots and slipping Moonweed into tea. Knees pulled consciously beneath his chin, Eren thought of Levi shoving him against the wall at market and how that might have turned out differently if they hadn't been fighting. Would tonight have been different, if Levi had actually touched his cheek? Eren wasn't sure he wanted it different. He closed his eyes and tightened the muscles in his legs, picturing Levi forgoing tea in favor of tasting his meal. He thought about how his rest was more important than clean dishes.

It was that realization that forced Eren to his feet and into bed. The least he could do was try to sleep. As his head hit the pillow Eren worked backwards through the day and, suddenly, smiled into the darkness.

That. That was it exactly.

He knew just what he'd give to Levi.

"So are you impressed?" Levi asked, one hand muffling his yawn. He and Erwin were the only ones left in the corridors, the castle silent.

"I know you were," Erwin challenged. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat so quickly."

"Only because that shitty four eyes was eyeing my plate."

"And I definitely heard some distinct shouting in the kitchen. Something about disemboweling the men who'd made Eren cry?"

"You're hearing is going in your old age. I never said 'disembowel.'"

Erwin chuckled. He heaved out a breath that was full of food and contentment. "Alright. To be frank I was impressed, Levi. Tremendously so. Eren has gifts beyond his titan powers, to be sure. Cooking, the ability to inspire confidence in others…" he cast another sly glance at his comrade. "He's somehow wormed his way into the heart of a particular Corporal I know…"

"Keep talking, Erwin. I'm sure Eren would love to try cooking tongue."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop while I'm ahead. A good strategist always does." They'd come to Erwin's door. He toyed with the handle while Levi kept back, arms cross and eyes averted. "Though I'm also a gambler, Levi, and I would place all my cards on you both being able to find happiness together."

"I will gut you."

"Of course." Erwin went to leave but at the last second Levi stopped him.

"Come on, Erwin. What was all this fuckery about? Or did you simply get Eren to cook so you could stuff your gob?"

"Well that was certainly part of it. No, no, calm down, I told you before. Eren's good. Very good, in fact. He could cook for the king."

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Yes. So?"

"So he's going to, Levi." With a final smile Erwin slipped inside. He ignored Levi's stunned expression, shutting the door firmly behind him.