The day of the feast dawned bright and hot, the perfect conditions for a midsummer party. Everyone outside the interior went about business as usual—with perhaps a few extra, bitter remarks about those who would not share their wealth—but inside it was another matter entirely. The courtyards of the palace were crowded with people from dawn till dusk: wealthy venders and merchants, their pretty young daughters dressed coyly in silk, sons with gilded swords and fat uncles carrying goblets of vine, top tier MPs (for once) donning pressed uniforms, Garrison commanders with roses on their belts, Survey Corps members walking taller than all the rest. It was a time for relaxation and conversation; forget for a moment what was outside the walls and instead focus on what was within—namely, the contents of your belly and your purse.
Only one person was removed from the merriment. Humanity's Strongest had gained quite a bit of notice when he'd first strolled through the gates. After all, in all his years of service he'd never once attended the feast. Still, after a few monosyllabic replies the rest had given up, choosing to focus on those who would actually offer them an amusing quip or conjure up sickly sweet smiles. Levi spent the day tailing Erwin. As one man charmed his way through an entire population the other deliberately stood in his shadow. Levi watched the sun's passage with nails digging firmly into his palms.
When the bells finally tolled he stretched, like a man waking from a particularly loathsome dream.
"Come on," Erwin said. "Everyone's heading inside. It's time for dinner."
Eren carefully sliced bits of cheese, spearing them delicately against grapes and arranging it all along gorgeously painted plates.
He'd been here three days and slowly the ache of being away from his comrades had been filled—somewhat—with excitement. Once the ingredients had arrived he'd stood astounded. Eren knew that he'd likely never be able to cook with such rarities again, so he put his homesickness aside and tried to enjoy himself. Millie and Risa had helped. As had Sarah, Nayat, Sage, Tessa… they'd all been incredibly kind to him, especially as he was really just a boy who'd invaded their sanctuary. A different kind of greenhorn now. Eren knew this, he was grateful, so he blushed when they teased him and ignored the thoughts about how he'd rather be being teased by another.
Eren had conquered his homesickness—mostly—but he hadn't counted on a resurgence of nerves. He finished that plate and braced both hands against the table, taking deep, shaky breaths.
"You going to faint on me, boy?" Millie asked, suddenly appearing beside him. She had a tendency to do that. "C'mon. Haven't you fought them titans before?"
"I'm about to serve this to the King," Eren moaned.
"No, that plate's going to them more common folks."
"You're not helping."
Millie chuckled, working to release his death grip on the table. "God check on your boy's project. That'll calm you down. Go on, go on. Might be surprised by what you find there."
So Eren went, over to the little corner table that he'd claimed for his own use two days ago. Risa had brought him lye, lavender, beautiful molds, everything Eren would have spent months, maybe even years, trying to get ahold of on his own. He really owed her. The result though was well worth it.
Eren picked up a piece of Levi's gift, worried over dirtying it, realized how utterly ridiculous that was, and set it back down anyway. It was then that he spotted the folded tissue paper tucked beneath the pot he'd been using.
"You need something to wrap em' in, don't you?" Millie asked. "Now don't go looking at me like that. It's a gift for a gift. Besides, I got a cousin who makes the stuff. Good deal."
"Thank you, Millie." Eren said. He fingered the beautiful, light wrapping. Levi would probably scowl at it.
All at once Millie turned him by the shoulders, her face grave. "You just promise me one thing in return, boy. Yes?"
"Okay."
"You come back. Understand?"
Eren shook his head. "Millie, I want to, really, but I don't think I'll be allowed back in the interior. Not for a while at least—"
"No, boy. Just come back." Eren rocked in surprise when Millie drew a sleeve forcefully across her eyes. "Heaven help me for allowing you prepare a meal that's letting you fools go back out there. Terrible of me, eh? So just you come back, boy, otherwise I'll never forgive myself."
"…Yes, ma'am." Eren said softly. His hands began to clench but he forced them to relax, not wanting to ruin the paper.
"Good." Millie gave the side of his face a brief pat. "Now wrap up your gift for that boy of yours. We're serving in an hour and my guess is you'll be heading back right after."
Swallowing harshly Eren rose up to press a quick kiss to her check. Then, both a little shaky, they rejoined the fray.
Their feast was complete.
Eren stared at the amount of food they'd prepared, enough to cover every one of the kitchen's tables when pushed end to end. Unlike meals back home there were no true courses during the Midsummer Feast and it had taken Eren a good while to understand that. (He thought back to Levi's complaints—seven or eight courses, Eren!—and realized that he must have never attended the feast before. The thought of having produced what was probably the best food Corporal Levi had eaten, in the castle's dingy kitchen no less, was… humbling. Satisfying too.)
Instead of courses it was customary for everything to be served at once, appetizers through dessert, with the King being given an individual plate. Well—"plate." It was really a platter the width of the table upon which Eren had placed a miniature versions of every dish, made by him personally. The King would have first taste of it all, comment, and only then would everyone else be fed.
Eren eyed the King's servings critically.
Spears of grapes and varieties of cheese, thick slices of his mother's bread topped with honey (given only to the King. Eren had managed to sneak a taste and… yeah. He saw why.) A fresh salad drizzled with Eren's own dressing (a slightly different version of course. Commander Pixis didn't have multiple bottles of vine that old just lying around.) Slices of chicken grilled to perfection, the beef—ground and paired with pig meat (sausage, Nayat had called it sausage), all of it mixed with a lighter cheese and topped on crisped crackers, dotted with seeds. There was a small glass of coffee to help wash all of it down and an even smaller thimble of cream to be added. There was ice cream—a dessert like shaved ice but infinitely tastier (Eren wondered what that would taste like topped with the honey…)—and the finale: a slice of Eren's first ever fruit pie. It was twice as large as any other dish and it oozed juice at its contenders temptingly.
"Looks good, boy." Millie smiled. "Real good. Look at you, holding your own."
"Yeah."
"Best get it out while it's still hot."
"Yeah."
"And breath for me, won't you?"
"… Yeah. Right." Eren gulped a few times on command and then hoisted the enormous platter up onto his shoulder. Months of training made lifting the weight easy as, well, pie.
"Ring the bell!" Millie called and said bell immediately sounded, far softer than the one that had called everyone inside. Eren heard the rise in conversation from the dining hall—a muffled, hungry roar. His guests were ready to eat.
Millie placed a shriveled hand against his back.
"Ready, boy?"
"Ready."
They marched out single file with Eren at the front. Unlike those behind him, dressed in the dark green tunics of the royal family, Eren wore his Corps uniform. Millie had also provided him with a new, stainless apron that lent him an air of authority he wasn't really feeling.
He carried the King's platter while everyone else carried the rest—plates upon plates of dishes; a train of sought after food. Eren knew his role at this point: serve the King, suffer his comments, escape back to the kitchen, and then—then—he could go home. That was the tradition. That was the plan.
As it was, Eren very nearly tripped. He nearly ruined the entire feast… and it was all because of Levi.
Corporal Levi was sitting right there.
Their ruler headed the table of course, seated in a chair twice the size of any other. To his left was the Chief Advisor, dressed pompously in orange, while on his right there hunched a frail looking woman that Eren could only assume was the royal mother. Her eyes rested on something up in the rafters and remained there, fixed. Down the line of the huge table everyone sat by order of their importance to humanity, which meant that the Garrison, Brigade, and Corps commanders sat close to the King's throne. Eren had expected Commander Erwin but had not expected Levi too. Technically he shouldn't have even been there, though Eren supposed that the title of Humanity's Strongest was as good as any label like "Commander."
Everyone sat tall and dignified, waiting for the King to be served. Everyone except for Levi. He slouched. Hands clasped loosely behind his head he looked as if he wanted desperately to kick his feet up onto the table, but with Erwin casting subtle glances Levi settled with propping his leg against the table's edge. Though his body was lax his eyes remained sharp and they followed Eren without pause. He looked hungry… but not for food, and Eren damn near dropped his platter all over again. Not just because of that look (he'd seen Levi hungry before after all—
hungry for explanations, justifications, hungry for blood) but rather because of the contrast he created. Everyone else there, even Commander Erwin and, Eren spotted him now, a tipsy Commander Pixis, looked like sheep. A silent and obedient flock. While his Corporal…
Levi lounged like a king.
Adrenaline rushed through Eren, followed by determination. He did a quick about face and succeeded in startling the rest of the line. Good. He didn't want to be the leader of sheep.
Millie was four servers down. Eren jogged quickly to reach her, already hearing the murmurs rising up behind him. Millie broke rank to meet him half way and her expression proved thunderous.
"What do you think you're doing, boy?" she hissed. Her eyes darted everywhere at once. The heat of confused—turning angry—stares seared into Eren's back.
"Do we have another one of these?" he asked, voice pitched low.
"What?"
"A platter. Do we have another platter?" Millie just stared, her mouth working like she was chewing something tacky.
It was Sarah who ran over, nodding crazily. "Yes. Yes up in the cabinet above the grain barrels. Just in case this one breaks, Eren, what are you doing—?" but Eren was already gone. He shoved his food at Sarah, only pausing to make sure she had a firm hold before sprinting back to the kitchen.
Sina help him. This was probably the biggest mistake of his life… but it felt right. Up in his chest there was a thrumming that pulsed more forcefully than the beating of his heart. It was the same feeling Eren had embraced when he watched the Corps returning as a child, that echo drowning out his family's fears. He'd felt it again in the instinct to first bite through his flesh. Do it. Just do it. Protests, possibilities, logic—all of it was inconsequential. He knew what was right. Levi had understood. Sometimes you had to trust your comrades… and sometimes you had to trust yourself.
Eren was back in seconds, though it felt like hours. It must have felt that way to everyone else too because Eren returned to a brewing disaster. His cooks were sweating in a broken line, plates trembling in their arms. The guests had lost their respectful silence.
"My apologies!" Eren called. His voiced filled the hall and it was stronger than he could have hoped for. He'd made his decision. Commit to it. "Apologies," he said again as everyone began to quiet down. Eren took his platter from Sarah with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Millie attempted to catch his arm as he passed but Eren pulled away, marching like a soldier. He approached the King and got his first good look. He was an incredibly thin man, delicate hands, clean-shaven, with a roll to his shoulder that announced his ease in nearly any situation. He wasn't anything like Eren had imagined and that gave him hope.
In all there were four people separating Levi from the King. Eren squeezed between Commander Erwin and Pixis, the first cast him a deceivingly bland look while the second appeared far too entertained. Eren ignored his Corporal's gaze entirely.
"I am deeply sorry, my liege." Eren said. He placed both platters side by side and began dividing the food with a knife, moving half to the clean ceramic. The whispers rose once more and Eren had to raise his voice along with them. "I never meant to delay your meal, but I really do think that quality is more important than timing. Things are worth waiting for, don't you think, sire?"
If his King was at all thrown by the introduction of small talk he didn't show it. He rested his head on one long fingered hand.
"I do," he said. His voice was soft and trustworthy. Eren's cuts grew cleaner.
"Commander Erwin has told you about my cooking, right?" Erwin twitched. "I sometimes like to have themes. Threads that pull all the dishes together."
"Indeed."
"Well today's theme is loyalty." Everyone was leaning forward now, dead silent. Eren's own words had finally drowned out their own and he only hoped he could keep it up. He gestured to the meal. "Grapes, beef, cheese—rare foods that we give only to those in power, the ones we pledge our loyalty to. Honey, I've heard it's produced by animals that are fiercely loyal to their queen." The King's mother made a happy noise at that, still staring up at the ceiling, and Eren sent her a tiny smile. "The rest is more personal, sire: the bread my mother used to make me, a dressing I made for my friends, though only through the help of another." Commander Pixis winked sloppily. "For dessert I decided to make you a fruit pie, sire, though I've never attempted one before. I have faith that you'll appreciate my efforts, no matter the result, just as I believe you'll properly honor the dishes that weren't originally created for you." Eren hesitated only a second. "Loyalty goes both ways, sire."
Well, no one was calling for an execution yet… Eren lifted the platters, each now bearing half of the King's food. "Loyalty is complex, sire, and that really hit home for me when I walked in and saw my Corporal. I didn't know he'd be attending." Eren finally looked at Levi. His face was shuttered, but he was no longer slumped in his chair. Ramrod straight he looked as if he expected a fight. And no wonder. Everyone was staring his way.
"As a member of humanity I am loyal to you, sire." Eren said, setting down the first platter. "But as a soldier of humanity I am loyal to him." Walking over Eren placed the second platter in front of Levi. The back of his hand brushed along his Corporal's shoulder as he reached out. The muscle felt hard as bone.
"I have two kings I intend to serve tonight, sire." He nodded to the King. "Sir." Levi. "Please, enjoy."
Having said his say Eren stood back. What he'd just done hit him in a queasy stomach and sweating palms.
The King took up his fork and gently began tasting each dish in order. His face appeared impassive but Eren thought he detected a developing flush on his cheeks; a savoring pause. It was apparently a night for breaking traditions for, instead of trying each dish only once, the King returned to Eren's pie, scooping up a slightly larger piece than he'd taken before. He offered it lovingly to his mother and if there had been any lie in Eren's previous words—swearing at least half his loyalty to this man—it evaporated then and there.
Levi didn't hesitate as many would have. He ate as methodically as the King, taking tiny sips of water to make room for the new tastes. He raised his goblet with the same strange, overhanded grip he used on teacups, but the goblet proved heavier and everyone saw the distinctly clear droplet that spilled down the side. Levi meticulously wiped it away, as dignified as any of the nobles drinking their vine. His confidence, along with the King's ease, allowed everyone to start relaxing. A little at least.
When the King fed his mother Levi hesitated over his own bit of pie. Eyebrow raised in challenge he offered his fork to Erwin in a deliberate parody of the King's movement. The silence became appalled again… until Erwin leaned forward to bite, a smug twist to his lips.
"Ew," Levi said. He threw his fork aside, stole Erwin's, and continued eating. Everyone's hands unclenched once more. Eren felt like one of those child's toys: a tiny ball being pulled up and down on a wild string.
Soon, the food was gone. Every gaze settled on the King. He, in turn, looked to Levi.
"Corporal," he said, voice thick with what Eren hoped was satisfaction. "I would welcome your opinion in this."
Levi cleaned his mouth and folded the napkin back into a perfect square. "Not bad," he eventually murmured.
"Indeed? You are a hard man to please then. I would have said, 'exceptional.' Now, Eren, was it?"
"Yes, sire!" Eren scurried out from the shadows. The King did not smile at him, but his look wasn't heavy either.
"I commend your skill, Eren. More than that I commend your bravery. Few would have attempted what you have done tonight, let alone succeeded."
"T-thank you, sire!"
"Pigheadedness," Levi said quietly. Not quietly enough though. "That's a good word for it," and Eren closed his eyes in mortification. The King only tilted his head.
"Perhaps. Though this boy has sworn loyalty to you, Corporal. He has greatly honored you this night. It is not my place to speak on your behalf, even as your king, though I would highly recommend gratitude." Levi stared hard at his empty plate. "I for one am… comforted by your daring, Eren. I believe we will all need a touch of 'pigheadedness' in the coming years, if we are to retake our world." Eren caught Commander Erwin nodding in agreement. It was only a blur to his right though, for Eren's eyes were still locked with the King's. "Eren Yeager." He said his name like a decree. "I have been told my many that you are a monster. Perhaps this is so, but if that is indeed the case than I would welcome more monsters in our ranks. Thank you for my meal."
Languidly he gestured for the rest of the food to be brought forward. Eren's new friends stirred as if waking from a dream and scrambled to comply. "You have pleased me, Eren, but this celebration is not just about us. There are others who must also find pleasure where they can. Let the feast begin!" he called and turned away. Pigheaded he might be, but Eren knew a dismissal when he saw one.
"A good night to you, sire."
As he turned back towards the kitchen Commander Erwin caught the strings on his apron. "Meet us out by the fountain when this is all done," he instructed.
"Yes, sir."
Out of habit Eren turned for confirmation from Levi but, to his shock, he was already gone.
Technically Eren's job was done but he remained as helpful as he could be in the kitchen, preparing fresh pitchers of vine for their guests (though he did ask Marie to try and keep the drink from Commander Pixis). A few times women flew back in for more food, most of whom took a moment to grin at him, wide-eyed. He saw Millie only once more. As she ran by she tugged sharply at his hair, growling, "You're a stupid boy. Damn if I haven't grown fond of you," before running off, which was pretty much like her.
Eren knew that the feast had no definitive end and so when the sound of knives on plates began to die down he decided to begin meandering towards the courtyard. Everything he'd brought with him, what amounted to a change of clothes, was pulled from its corner resting place and tossed over his shoulder. Before he left Eren wrote out two notes and placed them in front of the spice racks where they'd be sure to be found. One was a general note of gratitude while the other was addressed to Millie—a simple folded paper with the words, "I promise" inside. Risa could translate it for her, and even if she didn't Eren had a feeling that Millie would understand.
Eren's world shifted back into familiar focus when he saw Commander Erwin standing out on the pave-stones. An unacknowledged weight lifted from his shoulders when Erwin smiled at him.
"You must be exhausted," he said and suddenly Eren couldn't agree more. "I've been attending this feast for a very long time, Eren, and I've never heard the King comment so extensively on a cook before. But sweet Sina, you gave us all a fright pulling that."
Eren ducked his head, glad that the darkness hid his cheeks. "I'm really sorry, sir. I just..." but Erwin was shaking his head. He chuckled and Eren felt a large hand settling on his shoulder.
"No, no. Don't apologize. I've always appreciated the necessity of a gamble. Just recommending you for this position was a gamble all its own. You impressed him, Eren, and me. More than that you've proven to him and everyone else that you're far more than the 'titan child' they like to whisper about." The hand tightened as Eren flinched. "Relax. You swore yourself to both the King and Humanity's Strongest in front of every important figure within these walls. That's—" Erwin's chuckles increased, sounding a little breathy. "Well. That's far more than I could have hoped for. You've done well, Eren. Really well. You need anything in the future, don't hesitate to come to me."
"Thanks, sir, but right now I think I'd just like to go home." Eren admitted.
"No doubt. Come on. The carriage will take us to the stables and—"
"Commander!" Eren and Erwin turned to find a young boy running to catch them, one hand clutching his ribs. "Sir!" he gasped, then turned to Eren. "And, ah, sir! I have a message from the King." The boy vibrated with enthusiasm.
"Yes?" Erwin straightened and a mask Eren hadn't noticed was missing fell back into place.
"The King wishes to thank you both again and hopes that you have safe journey back. He also wants to know what Sir Eren desires as a reward."
Sir Eren? Reward? No one had said anything about a reward before. A tiny voice in the back of Eren's mind was telling him that this was cause for excitement, but as it was the rest of his head felt like it was stuffed with lamb's wool. He looked up blankly at Commander Erwin.
"Yes…" his superior mused, rubbing his chin. "The King does sometimes rewards those who have done things he considers noteworthy, though I've never heard of this occurring with the Midsummer cook before. Eren, if I may make a suggestion?"
"Please, sir."
Erwin smiled down at the boy. "Please inform the King that, should there be any leftovers, Sir Eren would greatly appreciate them being sent to the Survey Corps Castle. No doubt his comrades would enjoy tasting the fruit of his labors."
"Yes, sir! Of course, sir. A safe journey to you both, sirs!" and the boy ran off. Muzzily, Eren wondered if he sounded like that when he addressed Corporal Levi.
Levi.
"Commander?" Eren forced the word out behind a yawn. He allowed himself to be guided into the carriage. "Where's the Corporal?"
"Oh, halfway back to the Castle I'd imagine. You rattled him, Eren." Laughing softly, Erwin tucked his charge against the carriage's seat. "Now don't worry. I'd wager it was in a good way. In fact, I'd swear to it. You both have a great deal to discuss tomorrow. But c'mon, sleep for now, Eren. There you are. I'll wake you when we reach the stables."
Eren was only half aware of these instructions. The night had grown muggy and the carriage was moving now, those smooth roads rocking him pleasantly. Drowsily, he put his hand across his chest in what appeared to be a sloppy salute. Really though, he was feeling Levi's present tucked beneath his shirt. It was a solid, comforting weight. Perfect for grounding sleep.
Erwin, for his part, was known for the occasional lie. One fifteen-year-old boy was light in his arms and easy to balance on a horse. Erwin let Eren sleep peacefully through the whole ride home.